


The Crest of Fate

by KitLlwynog



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Smut, F/M, Major Spoilers, Mutual Pining, Seteth being dumb, like all over the place, side note of Leonie/Lorenz because they’re adorable
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-13
Updated: 2019-10-03
Packaged: 2020-10-17 10:47:01
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 21,998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20619746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KitLlwynog/pseuds/KitLlwynog
Summary: Seteth didn’t trust the new member of Garreg Mach’s faculty. At least not until she rescued Flayn from a kidnapper. Now, Eirian has the Sword of the Creator, the first person to wield it in a millennia. The more powers she awakens, the stranger Rhea becomes, and Seteth must decide where his loyalties lie.It ought to be easy, but Eirian has awakened something in him as well.





	1. Fly With Me

Seteth paced his office, an unread book in hand. Rhea had banished him here an hour ago because she found his anxiety “irritating.” He couldn't help it; despite knowing that their newest professor was, astoundingly, a master tactician and a more than capable combatant, the whole thing smelled of a trap. The desire for revenge was a powerful motivator, as Seteth knew from experience, and he also knew that it could lead to carelessness. 

Though he had misgivings when Rhea had appointed Jeralt’s daughter, Eirian, to the recently vacated faculty position, he was forced to admit she was doing a good job. And now that she weilded the Sword of the Creator, they could ill afford to lose her.

Seteth went to the window and drew back the curtain. There was no way he could see the Sealed Forest without opening it and leaning out. Despite his restless nerves, he could not allow himself such a visible breach of decorum. And anyway, half of the faculty was already in the back hallway, staring out the windows and not even pretending to work. Surely, if anything occurred, they would make enough noise to alert him. 

He forced himself to sit down at the desk. He opened the book and closed again, mindlessly ruffling through a pile of unnead messages. How long had it it been now? Four hours? Five? Did it take that long to rout out a force of approximately twenty combatants? It had been many years since he'd fought, and time in combat was malleable, contracting and dilating oddly, but still, it felt too long.

Rhea had forbidden him to take part in this battle, but if he saddled Ariadne now, he could fly over the forest and… A collective gasp, followed by shouting arose from the hallway. Before he knew what he was doing, he slid into the corridor, and barely remembered where he was in time to smooth down his clothes.

“What happened? I heard a commotion,” he asked Hanneman in a conversational tone.

“The sky over the forest turned black. I could feel the workings of a great, malevolent spell,” Hanneman replied, his nose practically pressed to the glass. 

Seteth’s eyes narrowed, his fists clenching. “Who could have that kind of power?” Before his mind could begin supplying him with the worst possible scenarios, something changed. 

A line of flames streaked across the heavens, opening like a mouth into unfathomable darkness. “What is that?” Hanneman exclaimed, as almost everyone else crowded around the windows said the same thing. 

Seteth continued to watch, his eyes straining against the brightness of the sky. Was it his imagination that a small figure stepped out of the abyss just before it sealed? The chatter flowed around him for several minutes, his mind racing, until someone spoke his name. 

“Shouldn't we send someone to check on them?” Manuela said, her usual simpering gone in the face of actual emergency. “I don't know what that was, but it looked dangerous.”

“I will go,” he said, somewhat to his own surprise. 

Rhea would be furious, but now that he had something to do, his anxiety vanished. He saddled his wyvern and flew out over the monastery, circling wide over the path to the forest and looking for any sign of movement. 

At first, there was nothing, and his heart began to race as he dove lower, imagining bodies. Flayn had gone with them, over his objections, but surely she hadn't… Yellow flashed beneath the trees. 

It was Claude, bringing up the front of the column. Seteth landed alongside the path where the trees thinned out and waited. The students were quiet, but perhaps that was only exhaustion. 

It wasn't until they came out of the trees that he realized that Claude was riding Leonie’s horse, and cradling a limp body in his arms. It had to the Professor, but her hair, once dark as the ocean at midnight, was now reminiscent of the frothy green tea they served in Sreng.

“What happened?” Seteth demanded as he reached the group. “She isn't…?”

“No, just unconscious,” Claude assured him. “We caught up with Kronya, but just as Teach was about to strike the final blow, Solon showed up. He killed the girl himself, ripped her heart right from her chest, and then there was a spell.”

“We saw the forest swallowed by darkness,” Seteth said, frowning. He could see Flayn inching closer out of the corner of his eye, and his racing heart eased slightly.

Claude nodded. “When the air cleared, Teach was gone. Solon started cackling about eternal, inescapable, nothingness, and of course, we were all panicking, and then she just… sliced her way out of the sky. And she looked like that,” he said, gesturing to the unconscious woman on his lap. “What does this mean, Seteth?”

“I am unsure,” he replied. “Perhaps Rhea can tell us.” He had no doubt that the Archbishop knew exactly what was going on, but whether she would reveal her knowledge was another matter entirely. “Did Solon get away?”

“No. He was too busy being astounded to run. We killed him, but we didn't even get a chance to celebrate before she keeled over.” 

Seteth glanced down at her face, as peaceful as if she were asleep. A strange protective urge rose in him. He ought to carry her himself; surely Claude couldn't be trusted. But that was ridiculous. You couldn’t carry an unconscious person on a wyvern. “I will fly ahead and tell them to expect you.”

**************

The denizens of Garreg Mach were so eager to hear news of their most popular professor and her promising students that Seteth couldn't even get close to Rhea until after they arrived. He pushed his way up the stairs to the second floor with a scowl.

“If you are not here to tend injuries or be tended yourself, it is time you went back to work,” he announced to the throng in the corridor. Most turned to look at him but didn't move. “Now,” he amended, making shooing motions with his arms. 

The hallway cleared a few minutes later with only a few comments about overbearing busybodies. But he was used to that. The important thing now was finding Rhea, and with the crowd gone, he could hear the sound of familiar singing coming from the audience chamber. 

He was unprepared for the sight that greeted him when he entered. They were in the side chamber where he usually slept, and the professor was lying in his bed. However, that didn't concern him half as much as Rhea singing her a lullaby and stroking her hair. 

He cleared his throat. Rhea looked up at him with an unperturbed expression, finishing the song before rising with her usual effortless grace and gliding out to the main chamber.

“You're looking so fierce, Seteth. Are you truly that offended I let Eirian sleep in your bed?”

“That is beside the point, Rhea. It is time you told me what is going on. Who is this woman? What do you know about her?”

“Even I am not entirely sure. But I will tell you this; if all goes well, our hopes will finally come to fruition.”

“Our hopes?” he repeated, frowning. His motivation had always been preventing another Zanado and protecting Flayn. His sister had her own motivations, but rarely shared them. An uneasy feeling crept over him, and he suppressed a shudder.

Rhea smiled as if she read his thoughts. “Once she recovers, I will bring her to the Holy Tomb. Then everything will be revealed.” Before Seteth could reply, she strode off, disappearing up to the third floor and leaving him to sit beside the professor until she awoke.

******************

Eirian had imagined waking up next to Seteth, in the kind of daydreams she had when she was lonely in the middle of the night. Considering he barely tolerated her presence, she knew the chances of that happening were basically zero. Still, she felt a little thrill at the sight, even though the expression on his face wasn’t exactly romantic.

“Seteth? Where am I? What happened?” The furrow in his brow eased slightly as their eyes met. She’d always liked the color of his eyes, a deep blue green like a tropical lagoon, but close up they were almost hypnotic. It took a few seconds for her to process his next words.

“You collapsed after defeating Solon. Rhea saw fit to allow you to convalesce in my bed.” No wonder it smelled so nice, she thought, her cheeks flushing. She sat up hurriedly, hoping to cover her consternation. “Please do not overexert yourself; you have been unconscious for several hours. If you require some water, I can bring it to you.”

Eirian raised an eyebrow. Seteth was always polite, but it was cool, formal sort of courtesy. He had warmed to her some since she'd rescued Flayn from the Death Knight, but this was the first time he'd shown such personal concern. “I think I’m all right. Are the students…?”

“There were a few minor injuries, as I am sure you are aware. If you are feeling up to it, they would likely appreciate seeing you are well.” 

She let out a sigh of relief. Everyone had seemed okay, but in the heat of battle, people often overlooked injuries, and there hadn't been time to check. “I'll go reassure them. Thanks for watching over me, Seteth.”

He blinked, straightening his already fairly rigid posture. Light from the stained glass windows lent his tousled hair an ethereal glow. It was really unfair for the man to be so attractive when she knew she had no chance. “Oh. It was nothing,” he said, waving her away. “Rhea will no doubt ask for you soon, so enjoy the respite while you can.”

*************

Claude and the other students were overjoyed to see her, though they were full of questions she couldn't answer. How could you explain having a goddess inside you without sounding like a lunatic? And what about her hair and eyes; what did that mean? Claude was planning to do some research in the library, but Eirian had doubts that anything would be found.

Just as Seteth had predicted, Rhea summoned her after the evening meal. The archbishop smiled in a way Eirian found a little unsettling, and Seteth wasn't there either. He was always standing at Rhea's shoulder, and Eirian found his absence as jarring as nails on a chalkboard.

“Professor, I'm delighted to see you recovered so quickly, Have you noticed anything different about yourself since you woke?” Rhea asked warmly.

“Besides my hair and eye color, you mean?” Eirian answered with a weak laugh. She couldn't hear Sothis’s voice anymore, but the thought of telling Rhea made her skin crawl. 

Things like this never used to bother her, but ever since she’d come to Garreg Mach, it felt like the whole world scraped at her emotions. Sothis had said it was her fault, because she’d been asleep. Eirian wasn’t sure whether to be grateful for this awakening or not. Was this how everyone else lived their lives?

Luckily, the archbishop didn't seem to notice. “It is quite striking,” she said with a half-smile. “Perhaps other abilities will manifest with time. In any case, there is somewhere I would like to take you, after the ball in a few weeks.”

Eirian couldn't help frowning. “Take me where?” The students had been talking about the ball for several days, and their excitement was infectious, but she'd been expecting a mission afterward, not a mysterious bonding session with Rhea.

“Beneath this monastery, hidden from the world, is the most sacred place in all of Fódlan. The Holy Tomb is where the goddess Sothis laid down to rest after her labors, and also where Seiros received a revelation from the goddess after her power began to awaken. It is my hope that you will also receive such a revelation.”

Eirian chewed her lip. This is what she got for never paying attention during services in the cathedral. “What do I have to do? Is it safe down there?” She didn't want a replay of the Holy Mausoleum; that had been a rough battle.

“The Tomb is well-sealed, so there should be no danger. But if you wish to bring your students along, I believe that would be appropriate. Seiros, too, had her band of faithful knights when her destiny was revealed.”

“All right,” Eirian said. Claude would be happy, at least. He was always looking for more information about church history, which seemed to figure into his long term plans in some way. “I'll let everyone know.”

“One more thing,” Rhea said, but this time her smile seemed genuine. “Traditionally, we hold a dancing contest before the ball every year. Each house will choose one representative. If you wish to participate, speak to Manuela about the details.”

“Sounds like fun,” Eirian said. She had no idea who to even ask to dance for the Golden Deer, but at least this was one decision without life or death consequences.

*****************

A week later, preparations for the ball were in full swing. Eirian had gone to Hilda for advice about what she should wear, and her student was almost incandescent with delight at the idea of treating her like a dress-up doll. Now, she was on her way to meet the dressmaker for a fitting in the second floor of the main building.

Her heart twanged with longing as she neared Seteth’s office, another sensation she was still getting used to. Though he usually spent his days in the audience chamber advising Rhea, Eirian enjoyed the rare opportunities she had to watch him work, usually peering surreptitiously across the hall while Hanneman was researching her. Seteth had a focus she envied when reading, and he tended to talk to himself, twisting the ends of his hair or twirling a quill in his free hand. It was like a window into a part of him that he didn't normally show, and she relished every glimpse.

But this time when she turned down the central corridor, the first thing she noticed was raised voices.  
“Out of the question. It is much too dangerous,” Seteth said. He wasn't exactly yelling, but it was much louder than his normal measured tones. 

Eirian slowed her pace. Not that she wanted to snoop but….

It was Flayn that answered, her voice cracking with emotion. “But that means you will be in danger as well. You are taking no healers with you, and if something happens, where does that leave me?”

Seteth was silent for a long moment. “I have no intention of behaving recklessly. I will bring the wyvern riders, and a few knights of Seiros.”

“That is hardly comforting. And besides that, this is my fight just as much as yours. You cannot expect me to sit idly by and…”

At this point, Manuela poked her head out of the infirmary, so Eirian was forced to pretend to be walking casually down the hall. Flayn, however, spotted her the moment she passed by the open door.

“Professor! I am so glad you're here. I desperately need your help.”

“Oh?” Eirian said, trying to appear innocently confused. Seteth frowned.

“My brother has been ordered by the Archbishop to rout out heretics on the coast of Rhodos. He is forbidding me to go with him!”

“These are bishops of the Western Church. The defeat of Lord Lonato has brought them to such desperate straits that they have resorted to defiling sacred monuments. This will be a difficult battle, not a seaside vacation,” Seteth interjected. 

“All the more reason for you to have support,” Flayn retorted. “I was thinking, Professor, that if you and the rest of the Golden Deer assisted, then my brother could hardly complain about my safety. And he would be much safer as well.”

Eirian couldn't help but grin. “Well, if Seteth doesn't mind, I think it could be valuable battle experience.”

He sighed. “I suppose I cannot in good conscience refuse the extra help. And in truth, tactics has never been my strong suit. I would appreciate your assistance.”

“It's a deal then,” Eirian said. “I'll need a few hours to prepare my students.”

“I plan to leave tomorrow morning,” Seteth agreed. “Meet me in the Entrance Hall at dawn.”

Flayn grinned up at her, practically bouncing with delight, “Thank you, Professor! I'll find some way to pay you back for this, I promise.”

“It's my pleasure,” Eirian said. She was definitely interested in seeing Seteth in battle. Maybe outside the monastery, he'd be a little less tightly wound.

******************

Everyone was yawning as they gathered in the entrance hall just before dawn. Rafael was still eating his breakfast, Hilda was nodding against Marianne’s shoulder, and Leonie was clutching a cup of tea like her life depended on it. 

“Ugh,” Claude said as he entered the room, rolling his neck and shoulders. “I haven't needed to get up this early since I was a kid. I forgot how awful it was.”

Eirian chuckled. She had never been a morning person, not like Jeralt was, but today even the thought of her father couldn’t dull the edge of her nervous energy. She paced the room, making sure everyone was accounted for, especially the students who’d joined recently. Félix was scowling in a corner, ignoring Sylvain’s jokes. Petra was listening intently to Dorothea’s futile attempt to engage Lorenz in conversation. 

Of all her students, he had changed the most in the time since she’d joined the faculty. Just a few months ago, he would have been easily swayed by appeals to his ego. Now, he answered the flirty songstress noncommittally while staring a hole through the back of Leonie’s head. Eirian hoped he worked up the courage to tell her how he felt soon because the suspense was killing her.

The sound of two sets of footsteps in the hall stalled her pacing. Seteth walked into the entrance hall, wearing light chainmail and carrying a lance, with Flayn following close behind. She was, as usual, much more cheerful than her brother, and flashed Eirian a smile.

“You are all here,” Seteth said, not bothering to hide his surprise.

“You really assumed I'd blow you off?” Eirian said, crossing her arms over her chest.

“No,” he replied easily. “I thought you would have more trouble getting the students out of bed. Some young people are difficult to wake.” His eyes flicked to Flayn, and she stuck out her tongue.

“In any case,” he continued, “All your horses are readied, but if anyone does not wish to ride, we have a wagon for supplies. Even at an easy pace, we should reach the coast by tomorrow afternoon. We will stay at a small abbey near Arianrhod tonight.”

“Sounds like everything is arranged,” Eirian said. “Are we all ready?” The students roused themselves with variable degrees of success. Claude had to shake Hilda before she would shuffle out to the courtyard, but eventually everyone was getting on their horses. Well, everyone but Eirian and Claude.

They were both approaching the one unexpected thing in the courtyard, which was a large, greenish-brown winged creature saddled for riding. Wyverns were not common in mercenary companies, and this was the first time she had been so close to one.

“I meant to ask you the other day, have you always been a wyvern rider, Seteth? I'm so used to seeing you behind a desk, I didn't even think to wonder if you had battle experience,” Claude said, clearly impressed.

“It has been several years since I was required to engage in combat, though I still lead the wyvern battalions in maneuvers and train the younger knights,” he said. “Are you interested in flying, Claude?”

“It's kind of a big deal where I grew up,” he replied, shrugging.

Flayn ran up and grasped at Eirian's sleeve. “I forgot that you have not had a chance to meet Ariadne. Come and say hello.”

“That is hardly necessary,” Seteth said, but Eirian was already staring into the snout of the flying reptile.

“Just let her smell you,” Flayn said. The wyvern’s tongue flickered out of her mouth several times, and then she ducked her head and nudged Eirian's shoulder. 

“Oh, she likes you!” Flayn exclaimed. “Try scratching the side of her jaw.” 

Eirian reached up and rubbed just under the wyvern’s cheek. The scales were surprisingly smooth and warm, like well-tanned leather. Ariadne’s eyes closed and she made a sort of low trilling sound. Eirian couldn't help grinning.

“You do have a way with wyverns,” Seteth said, almost admiringly. He was standing at the stirrup waiting to mount, but his expression was more thoughtful than impatient. “Perhaps you should consider training with them.”

“Maybe I will,” she replied. “But I'd better get on my horse so we can get going.” 

Her mount was a scrappy trail horse named Ladybug that her father had bought for her when she was about ten. She'd never been interested in battling from horseback, so she'd be happy to keep the same horse until he needed to retire. A wyvern though… it was something she’d never considered before, but the ability to fly was tempting.

Seteth mounted and soared over the gate, and the rest of the column followed, the wagon and the knights of Seiros in the rear. They were finally on their way.

****************

The journey was uneventful. The weather was cold, and only got colder as the travelled northward, so everyone donned fur cloaks, gloves and hats as the day progressed. Since Seteth spent most of the day in the air scouting their trail, Eirian spent her time talking to the students, usually Claude and Flayn. 

They were all grateful to reach the abbey in the late evening, and the nuns seemed equally grateful for the company. Eirian might have warned Sylvain and Dorothea especially about not making trouble, but Seteth gave a lecture about ‘improper behavior’ just before they entered that would hopefully be enough.

Dinner was simple fare, but warm and lively, and anyway, they were mostly too tired to complain. Eirian spent an hour making sure everyone found their beds before trying to locate her own. One of the nuns gave her directions to the second floor, which was unfortunately both labyrinthine and poorly lit. She was just making her third left when she collided into an unexpected wall.

She was too busy attempting not to fall backward to notice that the ‘wall’ was in fact a person until it grabbed her elbow and pulled her upright. “Eirian! Are you hurt?”

The dark shape in front of her resolved into Seteth, and instead of slowing down, her heart raced faster. He was wearing a loose cotton shirt open at the throat, which made him look much less like an upright officer of the church and more like a fairytale troubadour. He had never called her anything other than Professor before.

She swallowed. “I’m fine. I'm sorry, Seteth. I was trying to find my room, and it's so dark up here.” His fingers on her elbow loosened but did not let go completely.

“Ah. I believe you are right next to me, just down the hall, the second on the left, ” he said. This was still the closest she had ever been to him, and she wasn't sure whether she wanted more to flee or to push her luck. His eyes were just visible in the darkness above her, reflecting the faint torchlight. 

“I forgot how tall you are,” she blurted out, and he laughed, a low chuckle that seemed to have been startled right from his chest. It was a sound she’d never heard before and very much wanted to hear again.

“I was just headed to the library,” he said, dropping his hand from her elbow. “Reading helps me go to sleep.”

“Are you worried about the battle tomorrow?” That was probably none of her business.

“Perhaps. Not that I doubt your capabilities, but combat is full of unpredictable variables. At least if I was alone, there would be fewer unknowns.”

“No one can control everything. A good leader relies on the support of others,” she countered.

“So I have often been told,” he replied in a rueful tone. “I should let you get to bed.”

“Right,” she said as she stepped around him, hoping she didn't sound too mournful. “Good night, Seteth. Don't stay up too late.”

He laughed again. “Good night, Eirian.”

She found her room just where he'd said it was, a candle lit on the bedside table, and her sword and travel bag lying on the bed. 

It took a long time to fall asleep despite how tired she was. Not that she was nervous about the battle. Her life had revolved around fighting for so long that it was like stepping into a comfortable, if ugly, pair of boots. But she couldn't help thinking about the fact the Seteth was right on the other side of the wall. 

He probably hadn't given it a second thought, she reminded herself. Never mind how his voice seemed to take her ordinary name and make it into something special and secret. Or how warm his fingers had been on her elbow, even through the fabric of her jacket. Seteth thought of nothing but his work and saw her as a child. That was just the way things were. 

********************

Unconcerned with her emotional difficulties, the next day dawned with clear skies and frost on the grass. The students seemed well rested and not too keyed-up about the battle to come, and they were back on the road before the sun had quite risen over the trees.

By midday, the breeze had turned salty, and the air was full of gulls wheeling overhead and screeching at each other. Seteth landed on the road in the early afternoon and announced that he had found a place to camp. 

They pulled the wagons into a circle of scraggly conifers, and the students started setting up tents while the knights erected the command tent and built a fire pit. Eirian had done this routine so many times that it took her about fifteen minutes, and then she went to help Marianne and Lysithea. Eirian had thought pairing a quiet klutz with a testy perfectionist would be a good growth opportunity, but so far it wasn't going well.

By the time that crisis was averted, the command tent was up, and Seteth beckoned her over. “The enemy camp is about five miles to the north,” he said, pointing at the map on the table. “We should discuss strategy. The first question being, will we wait until tomorrow to attack, or push on into the evening?”

Eirian peered over the map, chewing her lip. “It would help if I knew more about the terrain. This map doesn't have any elevation markers or anything.”

Seteth pursed his lips. “I could show you. If we fly high enough, we’ll be out of range, and with a spyglass, you could get an idea of the battlefield.”

“Fly? You mean on your wyvern? I didn't know they could carry two people.” She was babbling, how embarrassing. 

“As long as we aren't heavily armored. Ariadne has carried more with ease.” 

Right. No big deal, Eirian told herself, as she went to tell Claude to watch over the others. This was just a scouting mission, and frankly, it was safer than most other scouting missions she’d been on. If she ever went back to mercenary work, she was going to make sure they hired some wyverns just for this purpose. 

Claude waved her away, in the middle of an argument with Lorenz, and she went across the camp to where the horses were tied up. Ariadne was a little ways away in a clearing with the wyvern battalion that had been keeping an eyes on the Western Church forces for the past week. If Eirian was any judge of wyvern emotions, she seemed excited for the chance to stretch her wings. 

Seteth was standing by his wyvern's head, talking in a low voice and rubbing her neck. Eirian smiled. You could tell what kind of person someone was by how they treated their animals. This only verified what her intuition felt was true.

“You are prepared to leave?” he said, turning in her direction. He was back in his church uniform, sadly, but wearing a pair of goggles on his head that completely derailed any impression of seriousness he may have desired. 

She nodded. “Ignatz had a spyglass, so I'm all set.”

“Very well.” He pulled himself onto the wyvern’s back more easily than she would have thought and leaned down to offer his hand. Eirian had a brief but intense inner battle over whether to insist on pulling herself up or accept the help. She decided that the risk of looking like an idiot was not worth the illusion of self-sufficiency. Plus, bonus unexpected hand-holding.

His hand was just as warm as she remembered it, but that was nothing compared to what came next. Suddenly, her back was pressed right against his chest, and he smelled like soap and ink. “I apologize,” he said, so close to her ear that the back of her neck prickled, “I did not realize how crowded it would be up here.”

“I'm fine,” she said in an embarrassing squeak. “Let’s go while the light lasts.”

“Hold on then,” he said. Before she could ask what she was supposed to hold on to, he nudged Ariadne with his heels, and she opened her wings with an excited squawk. She flapped her wings a few times, almost like she was checking that they were working, and with two bounding steps, she leaped into the air. 

Eirian did not scream. Instead she clamped her mouth shut and squeezed with her knees as they rushed upward. She concentrated on Seteth, warm and solid against her back, and then they leveled off, the flaps of Ariadne’s wings slowing.

“You can open your eyes now,” Seteth said, with a hint of humor in his voice. 

“I'm sorry to be such a baby,” she said weakly, letting her muscles slowly unclench. “That was just… really fast.”

“No, you did well for your first time. Most of the recruits scream and vomit.” 

Eirian laughed and opened her eyes. Then she gasped. The ocean was laid out like a blue mirror as far as her eyes could see, the sun glinting off the water in brilliant flashes. “I don't know why everyone doesn't become a wyvern rider if you get to see this kind of view all the time,” she said when she’d recovered the ability to speak.

He chuckled. “We only fly so high when traveling. For obvious reasons, battle generally takes place much closer to the ground. You should be able to see the enemy camp in a moment.”

She held the spyglass to her eye, pushing aside the hair that kept whipping her in the face. It took a few minutes of scanning the beach, but finally she saw the telltale glint of armor and weapons, which soon resolved into the enemy encampment. “They’ve spread themselves out. The ground looks like deep sand. It’ll be difficult to move. Calvary will have to dismount.”

“The standing stone to the north is the monument we are here to protect. There are holy relics there that we should recover, if possible,” Seteth said in a tight voice.

“Surrounded by mages, judging by their outfits,” she replied. “How deep is that water, do you think?”

“No more than knee high, even at high tide,” he said without hesitation. She wanted to know why he knew that, but at the same time an idea was forming.

“Do you think we can be ready to attack in an hour? I have a plan.”

***************

This had been a bad idea, and not at all in the way Seteth had anticipated. He thought, if things were going to go wrong, it would be because she would panic, or that they would be spotted, which would be no danger to them but would certainly complicate their strategy.

What he hadn't expected was how much he would enjoy it. Not just the flying, though it had been too long since he had flown Ariadne just for pleasure. He enjoyed Eirian, the basic animal satisfaction of having another body pressed to his, the faint smell of jasmine from her hair, even as the wind seemed determined to whip it into his mouth. She was lean and strong with the barest hint of softness, and she made him feel things he thought he'd forgotten about.

It wasn’t the desires of his body that troubled him. He hadn't been entirely celibate since Niamh died, though he had been circumspect. It would be one thing if that was all it was, a physical urge to be exorcised with a night or two of shared pleasure. But that wasn't what he wanted. Not all he wanted, anyway.

From the moment he'd pulled her onto Ariadne, he'd started to envision taking her other places, soaring under starlit skies, traveling to distant lands. This was dangerous. Opening himself to someone like that, revealing his secrets, didn't only leave him vulnerable. Flayn’s safety depended on it. 

It wasn't even that he didn't trust Eirian. The more he was around her, the more he regretted how badly he'd misjudged her. But her identity and power was still a mystery. He needed answers… they both did.

“So we attack in the light of the setting sun. You'll go to this island to take out these fighters, and Leonie, Flayn, Hilda, and Ignatz will follow you.” Seteth shook himself back to reality, hoping he hadn't missed anything important. “Wait for them to catch up before you go to the monument, since there's mages there. Meanwhile, Claude and I, with Lorenz, Rafael, Marianne, and Lysithea, will take out the main force.”

“That sounds reasonable,” he replied. It was an efficient use of their small force, and played to everyone’s strengths. “If I defeat the mages at the monument quickly, I can wheel around and flank the enemy.”

“Perfect,” Eirian said, lowering the spyglass. “Let's get back so we can get everyone in position.” 

Seteth wheeled Ariadne around and sped back to their camp, his mind full of everything but the battle ahead.

************************

Everything had gone according to plan. The bishops, once cornered, had surrendered, and the weapons, a spear and a staff that Flayn claimed were relics of St. Cichol and St. Cethleann, had been recovered. Claude and the others were already heading back to camp, jubilant with success. There had only been minor injuries. 

Seteth, looking pleasingly windswept and sweaty, was looking through some papers he'd confiscated from the leader of the Western Church forces. “Anything interesting?” Eirian asked.

“Not so far. Mostly complaining about lack of support from the local nobility,” he answered.

“I've put some flowers on Mother’s grave,” Flayn said, popping up between them with a sunny smile.

“I didn't know your mother was buried here,” Eirian said. “I'm sorry.”

Seteth gave her a measuring look. “I suppose you have earned the right to know. This monument is not just a holy site of the church. It is also the grave of my wife.”

“Your wife?” she replied dumbly, her mind not quite putting things together.

“Flayn is my daughter. Due to certain circumstances, it is more convenient for us to masquerade as siblings. Luckily, I appear younger than I am. You have seen what kind of danger Flayn is in because of her unique blood. Falsifying her identity throws such people off the trail.”

“I see,” Eirian said, but she didn't really understand. How would changing their family relationship protect them? And she couldn't help being curious now about Seteth’s actual age. Not that it mattered to her all that much.

“I appreciate your help in this matter, and your discretion. Despite the circumstances, it was pleasant to return here,” he said, looking out to sea. “My wife loved to fish. We spent many hours here in the past, and I occasionally come back to remember her.”

“Mother would always cook her catch for us. That's why I love to eat fish so much,” Flayn said, and Seteth smiled in a soft and gentle way that made Eirian's heart turn over.

“Coming back here reminds me how much I enjoyed those years, and how I long to return to them,” he said, his eyes far away.

“Father, we cannot turn back the clock,” Flayn said, taking his hand. “We have to live our lives in the present moment, taking joy where we find it, like Mother would have wanted.”

“Yes, she did like to say that, didn't she?” The look in Seteth’s eyes was one of fear and determination with hint of longing, and it remained in Eirian's thoughts for days after.


	2. Unmasking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seteth and Eirian dance at the ball. Eirian finds Claude’s flirting uncomfortable, and meets Seteth at the goddess tower, tentatively divulging her feelings. Things at the Holy Tomb go awry, Seteth defies Rhea, Edelgard is unmasked. Major spoilers for many parts of the game.

“You’re sure I look all right?” Eirian said for probably the third time. It wasn't that the dress wasn't pretty; the teal and spring green fabric went well with her new hair color and the off-the-shoulder sleeves seemed to emphasize her strength rather than hide it. Still, the cloud of tulle that spun from her hips and the elaborate updo made the person in the mirror feel like a stranger. Worse: an imposter.

“You look amazing,” Hilda said firmly. “Nobody will be able to take their eyes off you, so if you're looking to take somebody to the Goddess Tower tonight, you have nothing to worry about.”

Eirian's thoughts automatically turned to Seteth, and heat raced up her neck. “That doesn't seem very likely,” she said, and Hilda laughed.

“Go on. I bet Claude is waiting to escort you, and I still need to put my dress on,” she said, shooing Eirian out the door. 

She stepped out into the chill evening air, absorbing all the strange new sensations, the hollow clack of the heels of her dress shoes against the paving stones, the swish of silk around her legs, the wind tickling the back of her neck. The reception hall wasn't far from the dormitory, and just as Hilda had predicted, Claude was already waiting.

“Teach! You look… amazing,” he said in a breathless tone, his expression rather like someone who had been hit over the head with a mace.

Her insides squirmed. She knew Claude had a thing for her, but it was hard to turn him down when he never said anything openly. It wasn't just that he was her student, though that was part of it. The thing that most put her off about Claude was the same reason Rhea made her uncomfortable; they had plans for her, and she didn't know what they were. Eirian didn't like feeling like a game piece. 

“You look nice too,” she said, taking the elbow he offered. That was true: the rich gold of the Leicester Alliance suited his skin tone, and the solar motif he'd chosen for the ball was striking. 

He grinned brightly. “Thanks. We’d better go in. Lots of people will be looking to dance with you today.”

They walked into the reception hall, which had been transformed with ribbons and mirrors and magical lights into a sort of glittering wonderland. Claude released her when Dimitri called to him, and she was free to wander through the throng. 

“What a beautiful gown you're wearing this evening, Professor,” Rhea said, seeming to appear from nowhere. The Archbishop was wearing the same flowing robes and flowered headdress she wore every day, perhaps believing her office was the only statement she needed to make. 

“Thank you, Archbishop. You're looking as magnificent as ever,” Eirian said, trying to conceal her nervousness with a smile.

Rhea inclined her head in gracious acceptance. “Enjoy your evening, Professor. You and the students deserve a celebration for all the progress you've made. I am looking forward to seeing you in a few days,” she said before gliding off into the crowd.

Eirian shook herself to dislodge the sensation that she'd walked over her own grave. After a stop at the refreshments table and a spirited conversation with Leonie and Lysithea about the horrors of women’s formal wear, Dimitri asked her to dance. 

He seemed a little preoccupied and kept staring at Edelgard in a way that was either hatred or naked lust, and Eirian had never before seen the line be so thin.

Hanneman was her next partner. He was surprisingly sprightly for his age, and he mostly just wanted to talk about his research.

Lorenz was as graceful as she might have expected, but the first thing he did was ask if he was a better dancer than Claude.

She suppressed a smirk. “I couldn't tell you. I haven't danced with him yet.”

“Tsk, tsk. How could he neglect his duties so?” Eirian wasn't sure how dancing with her had anything to do with leading the Alliance, so she changed the subject.

“What about you? Did you ask Leonie yet?” Lorenz colored.

“I… was not sure whether it would be appropriate… or welcomed,” he said carefully.

“I don't know,” Eirian said, “In my opinion, a truly chivalrous noble would ask every lady in attendance for a dance, no matter the station of her birth.”

It was like he had received a divine revelation, his eyes glowing with fervor and delight. “You are absolutely right, Professor, and I was foolish not to see that before.” He left as soon as the song ended. Eirian hoped he managed to ask Leonie without sticking his foot in his mouth.

She made her way to the edge of the room, hoping to find a chair. Even though she had chosen fairly sensible flats, her feet were still aching. However, she had only been sitting for a minute or two when she spied a familiar silhouette a little ways away. No amount of fatigue could stop her from going to him.

“Good evening, Seteth,” she said. “I would've come to talk to you earlier, but I didn't think balls were your kind of thing.”

He turned toward her, his expression complicated as he took all of her in. “Someone has to make sure things do not get out of hand,” he said, the corner of his mouth quirking upward. “As lovely as you look tonight, I have to say, you do not look at all like yourself.”

She laughed even as her cheeks flamed. “I think that's the best compliment anyone has given me so far. You're looking rather dashing as well.”

He was wearing a long silk jacket which might have been forest green, though it was hard to tell in the dim light of the alcove. Delicate silver embroidery trailed around his collar and down the lapels: vines, oak leaves, and acorns. The cut wasn't so much different than what he wore normally, tightly cuffed sleeves that billowed at the forearms and a narrowed buttoned collar, but it seemed to suit him better, somehow. 

“Usually people tell me I look stiff and uncomfortable,” he said with an arched eyebrow.

Eirian laughed. She hadn't expected self-deprecating humor. “Seteth, would you like to dance?”

He blinked, but hesitated less than she expected. “It would be my pleasure,” he said, holding out his hand. 

Would she ever, she wondered, get over her giddiness at this simple touch? This time, neither of them were wearing gloves, and she could feel the callouses on his hands, from his lance and his quill, catch briefly on her own sword-roughened palms.

He led her back out into the light, falling into the rhythm of the dance with ease. “You're a surprisingly good dancer,” she said, daring to look up into his eyes.

He smiled down at her. “For someone that spends a majority of their time at a desk, you mean?”

“No, I meant for someone that avoids social events like a communicable disease,” she retorted with a chuckle.

“I will admit to not enjoying crowds,” he said. “But Garreg Mach has this ball every year. It would not do for me to make a complete fool of myself. What about you? I cannot imagine the life of a mercenary left much time for dancing instruction.”

“Flayn and I practiced together when we were preparing for the White Heron Contest. If we did anything more complicated, I’d be lost.” The music swelled, and he swung her out in a wide arc, twirling her like a top. It was like flying again, and her heart soared as he caught her around the waist.

“I wanted to thank you for that, for choosing Flayn, I mean. It has been a long time since I have seen her smile like that.” There was such a softness in his eyes, when he talked about his daughter. It did funny things to her insides.

“You don't have to thank me. She's so graceful and charming, I thought she’d be a natural fit. She worked hard to win the competition. I think she's really come out of her shell lately.”

“I believe you may be right,” he said, a slight furrow in his brow. “Perhaps I have a bit… overprotective of late.”

Eirian couldn't help laughing again. “You? Never.”

“You are teasing me,” he said with false gravity. The song was ending, and she felt something akin to grief. She wanted to say something, but words wouldn't come. At least Seteth looked equally lost.

“Teach! There you are.” Claude’s voice rang out across the room, seeming even more jarring than usual. “I was worried you'd already called it a night,” he said as he approached.

“No, I…” But when she looked back toward Seteth, he was already retreating into the shadows.

“May I have this dance?” Claude said, looking very much the part of the fairy tale prince. Eirian was keenly aware, suddenly, that plenty of other women would be thrilled to be in this position. It wasn't as though Claude was cruel or even rude. 

But when he took her hand, she didn't feel anything, except mild discomfort. “Something bothering you?” he asked. “You've got a funny look on your face.”

“Maybe I'm just tired,” she said, making an effort to smile. “Who’d you dance with so far?”

“Hilda, Annette, Marianne… Manuela cornered me by the refreshment table, and then I was going to ask Flayn, but I thought Seteth might have me flogged. Still, this was the dance I was most looking forward to,” he added with his usual charming smile.

“I'm sure you say that to all the girls,” she replied. Banter was easy and harmless; she could handle that.

“No way! I may be a schemer, but I'm not a complete dirtbag,” he protested. His expression was unexpectedly earnest. “Have you heard the legend about the goddess tower tonight?”

“The gatekeeper might have mentioned something,” Eirian said, her stomach fluttering uneasily.

“I was wondering…” he began, but maybe the goddess really was looking out for Eirian because just then, Dorothea showed up.

“Oh, Claude, have you saved a dance for me?” she called, fluttering a fan in his direction. His smile became rather fixed. Eirian might have felt bad for him if she wasn't so interested in fleeing herself.

“I’ll leave you to it, then,” she said, backing away before he could protest. The shadows near the wall wear a welcome refuge, but not enough. She longed for the cold night air. 

Slipping out the back door was easier than she expected, and the path to the cathedral was empty under a clear sky filled with stars. The goddess tower seemed to beckon. 

Maybe there was nothing to the legend, or maybe there was, but Eirian knew she wouldn't be able to rest until she'd at least tried.

******************

Seteth watched Eirian from the shadows of the doorway. Not that he meant to be watching her; it was just that his eyes seemed to stray that direction every time he glanced around the room. Was it his imagination that she seemed uncomfortable with Claude? 

It was better to believe that than to think he was jealous. At his age, jealous of a boy barely out of manhood? Eirian didn't owe him anything and certainly Claude could offer her things that Seteth could not. Maybe, a little voice said inside him, she would not want those things.

He shook his head. He was getting ahead of himself. There were still many unanswered questions, and with Rhea acting so strangely and the Death Knight still at large, he shouldn't even be thinking about… romantic entanglements.

Eirian detached herself from Claude and started moving in his direction. The urge to speak to her warred with his natural inclination to step back into the shadows, but he needn't have bothered. She passed by without appearing to see him, walking right out the door and pausing on the bridge. Was she upset or merely overwhelmed by the festivities?

After a moment or two, she continued on to the cathedral. He knew her well enough to know that she was not especially devout. Her father had been suspicious of the church, possibly with good reason. Maybe something was wrong.

After a moment of indecision, he decided to follow, just to make sure she was all right.

*****************  
Once she actually got to the goddess tower, Eirian felt a bit stupid. It was cold out here, and she was alone. She didn't even believe in the goddess. Sothis had been real, obviously, and powerful, but that didn't mean she was specifically divine. And even if she was, Eirian had first-hand knowledge that she was not sitting around in the sky answering prayers. Whatever remained of her now lived in Eirian, and she couldn't even manage her own wishes, let alone all of Fódlan. 

Besides, what would she even wish for? Asking the goddess to intervene in her love life felt… coercive. She wanted Seteth to return her feelings because he wanted to, not because a goddess told him to. 

She sighed and turned, intending to go back to the ball. Or possibly to bed, but then…

“Eirian? Are you all right?” Seteth’s voice echoed softly in the darkness, and it felt a bit like a miracle.

“I'm fine,” she said, turning toward the sound of his voice. “I was just… done with dancing.”

“I do not mean to bother you,” he said, stepping out into the moonlight and gaining an ethereal silver halo. “But with the Death Knight and the Flame Emperor unaccounted for, no one should wander alone at night.”

She wanted to say that she could handle herself. She wasn't exactly a helpless little girl, after all. But Flayn wasn't helpless either, and Eirian had seen the Death Knight in combat. This time, Seteth wasn't being overly anxious.

“Actually, I would enjoy your company,” she said.

He cane to stand beside her, both of them looking beyond the tower and out over Tailtean Plain far below. The flickering lights in cottage windows looked like fireflies dancing along the shining ribbon of the river, smoke from many chimneys gathering like herds of sheep.

“This is a lovely view,” he said after a moment. “Rhea normally prefers to keep civilians away from the tower, but I suppose she finds the legend romantic enough to bend the the rules. I imagine the students must have told you.”

“Weirdly enough, it was the gatekeeper,” Eirian said. “But everyone has been talking about it. Did you ever make a wish out here?”

“No,” he said with a soft chuckle. “I am much too old and jaded to hang my hopes on that sort of thing. And you? Is that why you chose to come here?”

She weighed her options and decided it was time to take a risk. A small one. “I might have, but I didn't think the man I would have chosen was interested.”

“That seems unlikely,” Seteth replied, almost as if he were offended by the suggestion. “I am certain any man in the monastery would be eager for such an honor.”

“Really?” Her heartbeat was loud in her ears, and she couldn’t help wondering if he could hear it. Sometimes, the sensation was so uncomfortable she felt the need to physically hold it inside her chest. She clenched her first to stifle the impulse. “Are you including yourself in that assessment?”

Even in the dark, she could tell his face had gone red. “I… that is… I meant…”

She couldn't help laughing. “I'm sorry. I shouldn't have put you on the spot like that.” He let out a long breath, but Eirian felt like she’d been electrified. She stepped toward him, looking up into his eyes, wanting to fix this moment in her memory. Her heart was racing as she reached up, brushing aside his hair to touch his cheek. He had gone very still; she didn't even think he was breathing.

“You should know, lots of people asked me to dance today, but you're the only person I asked. That wasn't an accident. I'm glad you came up here tonight.”

He swallowed. “Eirian…” She didn't know what he would say, but she could easily imagine the refusal, gentle but firm. 

“You don't have to say anything,” she blurted out, lowering her hand from his face. “I'm just going to go now.” He didn't try to stop her as she fled over the bridge, and she wasn't sure whether that was a good thing or a bad thing.

****************

Ariadne’s wings fluttered, her claws scraping the stone as she shifted uneasily on the parapet overlooking the main gate. Seteth patted her shoulder to calm her, but he knew she was only picking up on his own agitation. There was no peace to be found in his head since he'd met Eirian at the goddess tower three days ago. He wanted to speak to her, but even if he'd been able to catch her alone, he wouldn't have known what to say. 

How did you even start that conversation? With Niamh things had been uncomplicated. They had met in a church of Sothis in Enbarr, back when it was a fledgling port city rather than the sprawling fortress metropolis that it was now. There had been no need to keep his identity a secret, all his siblings had been alive, and he had been unremarkable among them, practically unknown. A pretty girl smiled at him and he smiled back, and things proceeded from there until, two years later, he was married and had an infant daughter. The complications had all happened later.

Now, he was hiding his identity because he was supposed to have died a thousand years ago, and helping his sister run a major religion because he thought it would keep his daughter, and the world, safe from the group that had murdered his mother and siblings. And the woman he increasingly wanted to be with had even more secrets, if possible. 

When Eirian’s hair had first changed color, he had wondered, briefly, if she was Rhea’s daughter; if Jeralt’s estrangement was nothing more than an affair of the heart ended badly. Thankfully, reading the man’s journal proved that wasn’t the case, but it raised more questions than it solved. How did she bear Sothis’s crest and wield her sword? What was Rhea hoping would happen in the Holy Tomb? If it succeeded, he feared for Eirian's safety. But if it failed, he feared what Rhea would do next. His sister had ever been dangerous when thwarted.

He'd wanted to go with them, but Rhea had forbidden it, telling him instead to watch the main entrance to the monastery for anything suspicious. As the minutes crawled by, he berated himself for acquiescing. There were plenty of guards at the gates already, and nothing was stirring except the anxiety 8n his stomach.

Seteth decided, in that moment, that he was tired of doing his sister’s bidding. He nudged Ariadne and they glided down into the courtyard outside the entrance hall. The gatekeeper waved. “Good evening, Seteth. Nothing unusual to report today.”

“Good. Could you hold Ariadne for me? I need to check on something inside.” The gatekeeper looked up at Ariadne, eyes wide, and she eyed him back.

“I always wanted to ride a wyvern,” he said in an awestruck voice.

“Please do not ride Ariadne,” Seteth said tersely. “If you manage to keep her from making trouble, perhaps I will recommend you for wyvern training.” He walked away while the gatekeeper was still alternately thanking him and promising to do his utmost.

Seteth kept his pace down to a brisk normal as he went through the entrance hall; no need to cause a panic because of his own likely ridiculous worries. But as he went up the stairs, his apprehension increased. There was an oppressive kind of quiet on the second floor, which might have only been that everyone was asleep, but it sent a chill down his spine as he entered the audience chamber.

There was a body in front of the throne, a knight of Seiros. He rushed forward and rolled Catherine onto her back, fearing the worst, but she took a great shuddering gasp. “What happened?”

“Seteth! Thank the goddess!” she said, sitting up and groaning. “Lady Rhea told me to guard the entrance to the Holy Tomb. Everything was going fine until someone knocked me out with dark magic.”

“Damn it,” he muttered under his breath. Catherine looked at him like he'd grown a second head. “Go rouse the rest of the Knights. Find Manuela and Hanneman as well. I'll go down to the Tomb.” 

Flayn was down there as well. If any harm had befallen her… No, he refused to think about it. He pulled the lever behind the throne to activate the elevator. If they all survived this, Rhea owed him some answers.

*****************

The Holy Mausoleum had been creepy, but somehow the Holy Tomb was worse. Along with the stale air and aura of neglect, there was a feeling of… potential, like the air before a thunderstorm. Maybe it was only that ever since Sothis had given up her power, Eirian had found herself more and more sensitive to magic. She really ought to talk to someone about that.

Not Rhea though. The Archbishop had a wild light in her eyes when she told Eirian to sit on the throne on the back of the room. The shape of it tickled her memory… had Sothis been sitting here the first time they'd spoken? Eirian wondered what was supposed to happen; her heart was pounding.

But when she sat on the cold stone, there was nothing, not even a flicker of change in the magical signature of the room. “Why didn't it work?” Rhea said, more to herself than anyone else, wringing her hands. “This should have been the final step.”

“Looks like we have company,” Claude announced, pulling his bow from his back. A group of soldiers in black armor accompanied by the Flame Emperor ave another man with an unsettling had entered the chamber, weapons drawn.

“You must keep them from taking the Crest Stones from the graves!” Rhea said urgently. There was no time to wonder why there were Crest Stones here.

Eirian charged forward with sword drawn, and the minutes blurred together, slash, parry, dodge. She ducked under an axe blow and slashed at her opponent’s knees, and he fell screaming. 

“Lorenz!” Leonie shouted from across the room. He was surrounded, and Eirian dashed over to help. She took out two soldiers and Leonie dealt with a third. But there was no time to stay and check on his condition; Ignatz and Félix were trying to shield Flayn from two mages and Hilda and Claude were chasing someone trying to flee. 

Flayn first, Eirian decided, yanking her sword out of a body on the ground, willing herself not to see the blood and destruction. But a familiar voice called “Not so fast,” and a bolt of dark magic knocked her to the ground.

“I wanted to work together, Professor, but if you're going to be a constant thorn in my side, I’m afraid I'll have to get rid of you.” The weirdly resonant voice could only belong to the Flame Emperor. 

Eirian turned just in time to see the Death Knight charging toward her. She raised her sword, but her hand was still tingling from the magic. This was going to hurt. 

But just as the blow was about to fall, a flash of silver from the right struck the Death Knight’s horse, making it rear up with a squeal. Eirian glanced over in shock and saw Seteth picking up another lance from the floor. Their eyes met, briefly, and then he came to stand beside her. “Can you defeat him?”

She flexed her fingers, all back to normal. “I can hold him off at least. Go help Flayn.” He nodded and dashed into the fray. 

The Death Knight dismounted. “I prefer a fair fight, in any case. Prepare yourself.”

She drew the Sword of the Creator from her hip, and it glowed red. “Come and get some.”

Their blades met in a shower of sparks. The Death Knight was strong, but slow, and much too proper. Kicking him didn't do any damage but it put him off balance just enough to get a good strike at his head. He ducked at the last second and pushed her back with his shield. “An unworthy strike.”

“A mercenary quickly learns that honor is for corpses,” she replied, striking out with her sword again, but this time with the chain. He was yanked off his feet, and she leaped on him, holding a dagger to his throat.

“Teach!” She didn't look away, but even this half-second of distraction was enough for the Death Knight to push her off.

“You win this round,” he said. “I will withdraw.” In a flash of magic, he was gone. She sighed and turned to Claude as she sheathed her sword. He and Seteth held the Flame Emperor between them. 

Rhea approached, incandescent with fury. “Let us see who dares such blasphemy.” But no one as prepared for who was underneath the mask. “Edelgard!”

The Adrestian princess glared back at the Archbishop, not at all contrite. “Will you execute me, just like anyone else who dares to defy your will?” 

Rhea didn't answer because just then Hubert appeared at Edelgard’s side. “It's time to go home,” she said sharply, and with another burst of magic, they were gone. The Knights of Seiros arrived with predictably bad timing a moment later.

Seteth was the first to recover, sighing and moving to retrieve his lance. “Bring the wounded to the infirmary,” he said, gesturing to the confused knights. “This battle is over.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I’m so glad everyone is liking this so far. It’s very motivating. I’m enjoying writing Seteth as the basket case of anxiety he so clearly is lol. I was going to include the battle aftermath, but I decided to not make a novel length chapter this time and save it for the next one.
> 
> Anyway, I just want to say I actually love Claude, but I felt like if you weren’t into him, his flirting might be off-putting.
> 
> Also, in case anyone is interested, I made a playlist to write this, which I usually do, so if you want to look at it https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3Mv4IDLE3sguget0leICf8?si=gKFFUiaJQf2K3kBkktMvuA


	3. Before the Darkness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After the events at the Holy Tomb, Seteth confronts the Archbishop, and then has a conversation with Eirian that veers into the personal. The whole of Garreg Mach is thrown into preparation for a war with the Adrestian Empire. The battle is going well, until Edelgard's reinforcements arrive, and Rhea turns the tide of battle in a way that costs more than she expects.

The students were all accounted for. Three were in the infirmary, but they would all recover. The rest had been healed by Flayn during or just after the battle. The Knights were cleaning and securing the Holy Tomb under Catherine’s guidance. 

Seteth's bones ached with fatigue, but there was no way he was going to bed without speaking to Rhea first. Fortunately, he found her pacing the audience chamber, apparently too angry to sleep. “We need to talk,” he said, stepping into her path.

“I agree,” she sad, preceding him into the side chamber like a queen awaiting her courtiers. He gritted his teeth and shut the door behind them. 

“I will ignore your defiance for the moment, Seteth, as your interference was timely. It is more important that we develop a strategy to punish Edelgard and her fellows for their heresy.”

Seteth pinched the bridge of his nose, willing himself to calm. “I am not one of your underlings, Rhea, and I am tired of being treated as such. Are you even listening to yourself? I agreed to help you build this ‘Church of Seiros’ because I believed it would be a force for peace, but that is no longer the case.”

“It is Edelgard who brings this conflict, not I,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Your zeal for crushing heresy has emboldened her, and no doubt even now sends the remnants of the Western Church to her cause. Surely, you can see how ridiculous this is. This whole… organization was founded on false pretenses. Sothis has been dead a thousand years; she has nothing to give her worshipers, and she certainly does not care what they believe.”

Rhea put her hand to her chest as if his words were a mortal blow. “Everything I do is for the good of Fódlan. If the truth about Crests and Relics were to come out, there would be chaos. Think of the danger Flayn would be in.”

“That ship has already sailed!” He took a deep breath; anger would get them nowhere. “If Edelgard does not already know the truth, thanks to the Death Knight, she soon will. I doubt she will keep quiet about her findings. Tomas has ensured that Claude and Eirian already suspect that the Church is hiding something. But that isn't the point. You know something about the Professor, and after all we have been through, I deserve answers.”

“It pains me to know that you no longer trust my judgement,” Rhea said, sniffing theatrically.

“I read Jeralt’s journal,” Seteth countered. “He believed you did something to his child and has been running from you ever since. Were his concerns unfounded?”

Her gaze hardened. “I did what I had to do to save her life. Eirian was stillborn. Her mother begged me to do something.”

“And what was that exactly? What would cause a baby to never cry or laugh? And grant her the Crest of Flames when even the children of Sothis did not bear it?”

“I just wanted Mother back,” Rhea said quietly. “I had been doing… experiments. Putting the Crest Stone inside nuns that I thought shared some of her qualities. With their full knowledge, of course. Nothing ever happened. Jeralt’s wife was one of those I chose, but I never considered trying such a dangerous thing on an infant.”

Seteth’s fists clenched. He could see the shape of it now. “So you put the Crest Stone inside the baby. She lived, and the mother died. Jeralt was suspicious, and since you would tell him nothing, he took his child and ran.”

“I thought we had lost her forever. All my work…” Rhea said with a sigh. “When she suddenly appeared, it seemed like divine providence. The Sword responded to her…. I was so close.”

“And what would have happened to Eirian if events at the Holy Tomb had events transpired as you wished?” Rhea didn't answer, but the fact that she wouldn't meet his eyes told him all he needed to know. “I expected better of you,” he said, his insides roiling with a strange mixture of anger, disgust, and disappointment. He turned to leave the room before he lost his temper again.

“Don’t you want Mother back?” Rhea called after him, unshed tears in her voice.

“Sothis’s death was a tragedy, but at some point we have to move on. What good would bringing her back do now?” he replied tightly. “You are not the only one to have suffered losses, but there is no one worth that cost. Eirian is a living, breathing person, not a tool to be used for your whims.”

“I see,” Rhea replied. As he left the room, Seteth feared that she saw all too clearly.

**************

Eirian sighed and brushed her hair back from her face as she left the infirmary. She needed a bath badly, but it was probably going to be really crowded in there. Brand new teachers did not get private bathing rooms.

“Er... Professor?” Leonie’s voice was quiet in the dim hallway, and it took Eirian a minute to find her loitering outside Jeralt’s door. So far, no had dared to clean it, let alone try to move in.

She smiled through her fatigue. “Manuela says everyone’s going to be fine, even Lorenz. She set his arm and assures me he’ll be back to normal by the end of the week.”

Leonie sighed with obvious relief before realizing what she’d done. “That’s not... I mean, I am glad, but I was just...”

“There’s no reason to be ashamed about caring for somebody,” Eirian said. “But I promise not to tell Lorenz. I think we can all agree that his ego doesn’t need any help.” 

Leonie laughed. “Thanks, Professor.” It was nice to have an uncomplicated interaction with her, for once, and Eirian felt a little lighter as she made her way out past the gardens. The monastery was quiet under a waxing moon, just a hint of wind rustling through the trees.

“Eirian.” She jumped at the sound of Seteth’s voice and felt foolish for for doing so.

“You’re up late,” she said, stepping into the darkness of the garden.

“Yes. I was coming back from... well, I was hoping to speak with you,” he said. “Though I realize you must be tired.”

Her palms began to sweat. “I’m all right. Is something the matter?”

“No... At least, not anything other than Edelgard apparently plotting against us,” he said, sighing. “I wanted to apologize for the way I mistrusted you, before. Time and time again, you have proven yourself a true ally.”

“I appreciate that, but you did have reasonable concerns. I mean, even I hardly know anything about my past.” Everything that happened before Garreg Mach was like a smear of gray paint. She remembered a few specific events, and obviously retained all of her knowledge and skills, but little else. It was a strangeness that she had been forced to make peace with.

“Perhaps, but that does not excuse me for treating you unkindly, especially when you have been nothing but understanding. I wanted you to know that you have my support, from now on.” Now that her eyes had adjusted, she could see that he was looking down at his clasped hands, his brow furrowed. “I also have a question for you.”

Her heart was racing again. It was less startling now, but she still couldn’t help wondering if this was a normal reaction. “All right.”

“I was wondering... if it troubled you. Not knowing your origins, I mean.”

It took a moment for her brain to process. She’d expected him to say something about the goddess tower. “I guess I am curious, but I wouldn’t even know where to begin.”

He nodded. “I suspected you might not be content with your father’s explanations. I have... spoken to Rhea, and I confess I do not fully understand some of what she told me, but I can reassure you on one score. You are Jeralt’s daughter. As he may have told you, your mother was a nun here who died shortly after your birth.”

Even after reading his diary, hearing someone else confirm it was like a weight off her chest. “I’m glad he was telling the truth about that much, at least. Did you find out anything else? Was my mother a descendant of Nemesis?”

“That I do not know, though I doubt it. I suspect your Crest may originate from... things that were done to you as an infant.” His fists were clenched now. “Rhea is... not who I thought she was.”

Eirian could tell this had cost him. Not just to admit it, but to learn it. He held to his loyalties so strongly; to have this one challenged had clearly shaken him. “Jeralt told me to be careful around her. I suppose that’s what he meant.”

Seteth looked up, seeming relieved to have told her, or maybe just glad she had taken the news so well. “I believe that whatever she had planned for you has failed, so I hope that will put your mind at ease. I would like to research further, if that is not too presumptuous. Whatever I discover, I will, of course, share with you.”

She chewed her lip. “Flayn told me that you rely on the protection of the church for her sake. I wouldn’t want you to jeopardize that for me.”

He laughed bitterly. “I do appreciate your concern, but recent events have shown me that not even Garreg Mach can be a true sanctuary for us. I feel more comfortable with Flayn under your protection than anywhere else.” The words were said in a matter-of-fact tone, but they still made Eirian's stomach lurch with surprised affection. She knew how careful he was with his daughter. 

“There are some things I cannot reveal now because it would threaten a political situation that is already precarious,” he continued. “But I will not continue to keep secrets for Rhea’s sake alone. You deserve to know what was done to you and what it means for your future. As soon as I am sure, I will tell you everything.”

Eirian let out a slow breath. She had been wanting to talk to someone about Sothis, and now seemed to be the time, but it still took a moment for the words to come. “There is one thing I haven’t told anyone,” she said, swallowing past the knot in her throat. “It sounded crazy, and I’ve been wary of Rhea but... just before I cane to Garreg Mach, I started hearing a voice in my head. At first she didn’t seem to know who she was or why she was there, but she was incredibly powerful. She saved my life, in the battle that led to my arrival here. Eventually, things started to come back to her. She said her name was Sothis.”

Seteth made a noise that was somewhere between a gasp and a sigh. “Like the Goddess?”

“I know it’s ridiculous, but I didn’t even know that was the name of the Goddess at first. But when Solon did that spell on me, the only way for us to get out of that darkness was for Sothis to give me her power. We... merged, I guess. She doesn’t speak to me anymore, but now I can sense magic, and I have a heartbeat. Did you know I didn’t used to have a heartbeat?” Everything was all coming out in a rush, and she felt like an idiot.

But Seteth nodded in a sort of resigned way. “I believe you, Eirian. It tallies too well with all that Rhea revealed. The rest, I fear, would take far too long to explain, and there are some things I wish to confirm before we have that conversation. I know that must seem unfair. You have offered me a great deal of trust when I have so little to give, but the knowledge I bear could affect much more than myself. I hope you will forgive my caution.”

“I’m just glad you don’t think I’m a lunatic,” she said with a weak laugh, and then she yawned so hard that she swayed slightly backward.

He grabbed her elbow to steady her again. “That is far from the strangest thing I have ever heard. But it is late, and you are tired. We can speak more about this later,” he said, pulling away.

She reached out and caught his hand before he could leave. It seemed very important that he knew she was grateful for his help, even if it wasn’t a complete explanation.“Thank you anyway, for listening and telling me as much as you felt you could.”

To her surprise, he did not immediately pull away, but took her hand in both of his. “I also... About what you said at the goddess tower,” he said, swallowing audibly. “I would like to... continue that conversation at some point. When things are more settled.”

“Oh.” She couldn’t think of anything more intelligent to say, especially since her heart was now threatening to jump out of her throat. “Good.”

Despite her lack of eloquence, she could have sworn that he smiled. “Well then, good night Eirian,” he said, releasing her hand in a way that seemed almost reluctant.

“Good night, Seteth,” she replied. She watched him walk back into the monastery, a little too dazed to move. Sothis might not be answering prayers, but maybe she’d left a little blessing behind.

************

There was a knock on Eirian’s door much too early the next morning. At least, it felt much too early, but it looked like mid-morning. She groaned and pulled her coat on so at least to be halfway presentable when she opened the door. 

“Sorry to bother you, Professor,” Flayn said, showing no sign of fatigue from the day before. “My brother asked me to get you. They’re having an urgent faculty strategy meeting on the third floor.”

“About Edelgard, I assume?” she said. That, at least, she was pretty sure was real.

Flayn nodded. “Rumors are already flying. I’ve heard she forced her father to abdicate, and after being crowned Empress, declared war on the Church of Seiros.”

Eirian’s eyebrows shot upward. “That was quick. I’ll be there as soon as I get dressed.” Her mind was racing with possibilities. Would Edelgard match right for Garreg Mach or would she attack other, less well-defended churches? Would she act against the citizens, and if so, what would Rhea do? What about the other students from the Black Eagle house?

It was only as she was going up the stairs to the third floor that she thought about the conversation with Seteth. It was shocking enough to learn that Rhea had apparently been experimenting on her as a baby, though it was probably less troubling to Eirian than it was to Seteth. What was more unbelievable to her were his final words. 

Not that she thought so little of herself, but she had expected it would take much longer for him to warm up to her. It felt like a dream; maybe she’d imagined it in her exhaustion. That made more sense.

When she entered the meeting room, the rest of the faculty was already there. Thankfully, someone had thought to bring up tea and pastries. She was starving. 

After filling her plate, she looked around for an open seat, and saw, to her surprise, that the only one was next to Seteth. He wasn’t sitting in his usual place either, next to the head of the table where Rhea always was. No one else seemed to notice, but to Eirian it felt significant.

His eyes fixed on her as she sat down beside him. “Good morning, Seteth,” she said. “Did you sleep well?”

“Good morning, Eirian,” he said pleasantly, but there was warmth in his eyes that hadn’t been there before. “I... did, thank you.” Spots of colors rose on his cheeks, which Eirian found highly interesting. “And you?”

“Fine. I was exhausted.” Just then, the doors swung open, and Rhea glided into the room. Silence fell as she took her place at the table.

“Let us dispense with the formalities this morning. I am sure you have all heard that Edelgard, having been crowned Empress of the Adrestian Empire sometime last night, has declared war on the Church of Seiros. As the caretakers of its most holy site, we must now decide on our response.”

**************

The next weeks passed in a blur. Almost as soon as Edelgard declared war, it became clear that her first target would be Garreg Mach, and she was gathering a massive force. Every day was filled with strategy meetings and frenzied training, with even the students poring over battle maps long into the night.

Most of the students of the Black Eagle house were recalled home, and Eirian dreaded the thought that they would soon be on opposite sides of a war. The Blue Lions weren’t doing so well either. Something about Edelgard’s betrayal seemed to have sent Dimitri over the edge. He spent a lot of time alone, muttering to himself, and as a consequence, the morale of the other students was flagging.

More than ever, Eirian was grateful for Claude, especially now that he was too busy to flirt with her. He was a brilliant strategist who drove the other students to be their best, but his playful attitude helped keep the pressure off. He had a fairly keen sense for when teasing would improve a bad mood and when someone should be left alone. 

So, despite everything, the Golden Deer house was as well-prepared as they could be when the scouts reported that enemy forces would reach the monastery in less than a day. After a tense and rowdy breakfast, she set the students to doing their normal chores and studying. Sitting around waiting for hours wasn’t going to do anyone any good. 

Once she’d checked to make sure they were all settled, she went out to the main gate and climbed to the top of the wall. From this vantage point, if she squinted, she could see something shimmering on the horizon that could only be Edelgard’s army. Even at this distance, it was intimidating, but this wasn’t a fight they could run away from. 

A small group of wyverns flew in from the east, wheeling gracefully to glide towards the aeries in the rear of the monastery. One broke away, swerving toward the main gate. When it became clear that it was planning to land on the wall beside her, she backed up toward the parapet to give it room. Of course, it was Seteth, but under the circumstances, her hope and delight were somewhat tempered by the fear that he brought more bad news.

“Out scouting, I presume,” she said as he dismounted. “Anything new?” 

“No,” he replied, patting Ariadne’s side almost idly. “Their forces are just as large as we predicted and right where we expected they would be. They will arrive here by sunset, but there is no way of knowing if they will attack immediately or wait until morning.”

“I suppose the lack of surprises is something to be grateful for,” she said, sighing as she looked out over the ramparts again.

“Yes,” he said, moving to stand beside her at the wall. “We have not had much chance to speak since Edelgard’s betrayal. How are you and your students faring?”

“Everyone’s worried, of course. Things don’t look good for us, and no one wants to fight their classmates. I’ve just been trying to keep them busy. You can only look at so many battle maps before you go insane.”

“And what about yourself?” he asked. It was an unusually direct question from Seteth, and she turned to him in surprise. His expression was fierce and warm all at once. Normally, she would have said she was fine or something else equally bland and socially acceptable, but when he looked at her like that, somehow she could only speak the truth.

“Part of me thinks this whole situation is crazy,” she said, gesturing to the army in the distance. “Looking at these overwhelming numbers, we really ought to evacuate. Try to wear them down using guerrilla tactics. It’s the middle of winter; their supply lines have to be ridiculous, and it can’t all be done by magic.”

Seteth’s brow furrowed. “Yet, you never said as much in any of the strategy meetings.”

She shrugged. “There were plenty of people prophesying doom without me adding on. Besides, I understand Rhea’s point of view too. Whether or not I’m a believer doesn’t change the fact that most of the people of Fódlan are. Garreg Mach is the heart of their faith, and Edelgard knows it. If we fall, the citizens are just as likely to give up as resist. Not to mention that the monastery has been a potent symbol of peace for years. And it’s one of the most defensible fortresses in Fódlan. If we can’t make a stand here, where would we go?” 

Eirian let out a long sigh. “I have to believe I was given all this power for a reason. Maybe this is it.”

He laid his hand on her shoulder, gingerly, as if fearing it would be unwelcome. “I have always admired your strength, but I... I hope you will not take this amiss, but I fear that Rhea is pushing you to be... some sort of savior. As impressive as your power is, you are not immortal, and you are needed, now more than ever.”

She reached up and put her hand on top of his, her heart stuttering oddly. It always seemed to misbehave when Seteth was involved, and she wasn’t sure she’d ever get used to it. “Are you saying this on behalf of the church or for yourself?”

He didn’t answer right away, a tumult of emotions whirling behind his eyes. Finally, he intertwined his fingers with hers. “Can it be both?”

*****************

Seteth had promised himself that he would keep his burgeoning feelings for Eirian to himself. At least until Garreg Mach was no longer under siege. They both needed to concentrate on the battle ahead, not be distracted by their hormones like teenagers.

But when he saw her standing on the ramparts, the wind blowing her hair into cerulean streams in the sunlight, he found himself pulled toward her like a compass needle to north. He wanted to check on her, that was all. At least, that was what he told himself.

But now, she had called his bluff with her question, and he could only offer the truth. He laced his fingers with hers, just to feel the strength of them, her pulse a reassuring counterpoint to his own. “Can it be both?”

She beamed at him, and for one wild moment, he almost threw caution to the wind and kissed her, right where anyone could see. 

But he hesitated. Not because they were in public, but because he knew this was driven by fear, fear that this was his last chance, that one of them would not come back. If he was going to declare himself, he thought he would rather it be a moment of private tenderness, rooted in joy, not in panic. The impulse passed unanswered.

“I promise not to do anything crazy,” she said, smilingly unaware of his brief struggle. “But you have to be careful too.”

“I am always careful,” he replied, and she laughed, reaching up to push a strand of hair behind his ear. She had this habit of touching him when he least expected it, and the more it happened, the more he wanted it, like this small evidence of affection was a drug meant only for him.

“I know.” There was more he could have said, promises he might have made then, but a guard called up from the courtyard.

“Professor! Is that Seteth there with you? The Archbishop wants to speak with you both about the upcoming battle.” He jumped away, feeling like a child caught with their hands in the pastries, and then wished he hadn’t. 

“Guess it’s time to go back to work,” Eirian said, her smile turning rueful. “I’ll see you in a little bit, then.”

He nodded, watching her descend to the courtyard in a haze of things he wished he’d said and done. Ariadne trilled impatienly behind him, jolting him back to the real world. 

After the battle, he promised himself, he would not hold back.

***************

They came in the dark, the hour just before false dawn, a storm of torches into the town of Garreg Mach, scaring all those out of their beds who’d been too stubborn to evacuate to the cathedral. Alarms sounded from the watchtowers. Seteth rolled out of bed, already armored, and grabbed his lances from the stand. 

The Spear of Assal was heavy in his hand, less from the actual weight and more from all the history bound upon it. The last time he had wielded this weapon had been to avenge the death of his mother and siblings. Eirian had given it back to him after they had retrieved it from his wife’s grave, almost as if she had known where it belonged by instinct. It seemed fitting, somehow, that it would be now used in defense of all he still held dear.

He ran out to the front gate, pushing through the ranks of the Knights who were not already manning arbalests or raining arrows from the walls. Eirian was in the center of the chaos, directing the troops; the Knights had accepted months ago that her tactical prowess was far more important than any individual commander’s ego. And no one was prepared to gainsay the Archbishop.

“What is the plan?” Seteth asked as soon as he could get close. Her eyes lit up as they met his, despite the grim expression on her face.

“Cyril is getting the stablehands to bring the wyverns and horses to the courtyard. You and Leonie and Lorenz will go down the east road with your battalions and take out the enemies there. When the road is clear, you can wheel around to join the defense of the main gate. Lorenz will guard the east road until Ash can take command of the enemy’s siege weapon.”

“Very well,” he said, knowing there was no time to ask what anyone else would be doing. Flayn had refused his suggestion that she not take part in the battle, and Eirian, he knew, would be wherever she was most needed. She grabbed his hand and squeezed it as he passed by; apparently he’d forgotten his gloves, and then, a child passed him Ariadne’s reins.

His wyvern’s wings fluttered impatiently as he mounted. She was eager for the sky, if not for battle itself. He guided her to perch on the ramparts overlooking the main gate, keeping his battalion out of the way of the cavalry and infantry milling below. 

Edelgard’s standard marched through the main gate and up the center of the village, and Eirian appeared below him, her battalion bearing the heraldry of the Church. She raised her left hand, gesturing sharply to the east. That was his signal.

As one, the wyverns rose into the sky, accompanied by the thundering of the cavalry below. To the west, Claude, Rafael and Félix led skirmishers to face Hubert and the Empire’s mages. The battle for Garreg Mach had begun.

Time passed in fits and starts. They cleared the east road with little difficulty, and Ash aimed the onager toward the heavily armored units surrounding Edelgard. Seteth surveyed the battlefield, letting Ariadne rest her wings on top of a low wall.

Flayn was standing at the main gate, guarded by Lysithea and Ignatz. Catherine and Hilda had charged down the center road to battle the Empire’s vanguard. Far ahead of them, Eirian’s sword flashed in the torchlight just a few yards from where Edelgard waited. No one was watching the Empress’s flank. He gave the signal to his battalion, wheezing around to the south.

Edelgard noticed at the last minute, sending in a group of pegasus riders to intercept him. Seteth raised his lance, but he needn’t have bothered, as the knights in his battalion drove them off with a hail of javelins. He circled to Edelgard’s left, hoping to catch her unaware, but he failed to notice the mage on the other side of the wall.

He felt the flames before he saw them, heat blistering his cheek, and the ghost of his own mortality seemed to shiver down his spine and then… it was gone. There was no mage… no, he was on Edelgard’s right now, a pegasus crumpled on the ground beneath him. Eirian was to his left now, killing the mage. Had he imagined it? 

There was no time to ponder. Edelgard saw him there and turned, preparing to throw her axe. He rose out of the way, lunging with his spear, but it glanced off her shield. The Empress bared her teeth like an angry wolf. But from behind her, crimson energy cracked like a whip. The Sword of the Creator sliced through the air, wrapping around Edelgard’s neck like a noose, taking her to her knees. 

Seteth leaped to the ground before Airadne had quite landed, brandishing his spear at the young woman who had once been a promising student. “You are outmatched, Edelgard. You must surrender.”

She laughed, low and bitter despite the chain around her throat. “Don’t be ridiculous.” Her hand flashed a signal to her herald, and a whistle blew. The answer came with the blare of many distant trumpets from the forest outside the village. Already, hundreds of soldiers were marching up the path. Of course, it had been too easy. 

Edelgard vanished in a flash of magic, leaving Seteth and Eirian standing alone in the path of the Imperial army. “Her reinforcements are double the size of the initial force,” Eirian said grimly, sheathing her sword. All around them were the bodies of the dead and dying. He could see the truth before she spoke. “We’ll have to retreat back to the monastery. Start evacuating the wounded and noncombatants out the northern gate."

Seteth swallowed. “Go inform Rhea. I will cover the students’ retreat.” Eirian nodded. They had done all they could, but this was a battle they could not win.

**************

Rhea received the news with surprising equanimity. She closed her eyes and let out a long, slow breath before opening them again and turning to Shamir at her left side. “Order the evacuation. Send the remaining Knights to help the wounded.” Then she beckoned to Eirian.

They walked onto the balcony overlooking the main gate, and Rhea looked out over the chaos like a Queen surveying her kingdom before turning to Eirian. “I’m afraid I must leave things to you, dear one. Of course, this place has always been yours. I have only ever been holding it in your name. I know you will do more than I ever dreamed possible.”

Eirian frowned, and opened her mouth to protest, but it was too late. Magic wreathed Rhea’s body as she leapt from the balcony. Leathery wings burst from her back as her arms and legs lengthened, and she grew larger by the second. She roared a challenge as the magic faded.

“The Immaculate One,” Eirian said under her breath. _What Claude would have given to see this,_ she thought, and then the creature that had been the Archbishop dove down into the valley, spewing white-hot flame from her enormous maw. The sound of screaming rose in the air.

Eirian sprinted down the stairs, sword drawn, pushing through the panicked crowd fleeing through the gate. At this point, there was no discriminating friend from foe; the air was filled with smoke from the flames leaping roof to roof. She spotted Rhea near the bridge just as a dozen demonic beasts leaped upon the dragon, and she screamed in pain and fury. 

Eirian ran to the edge of the cliff and swung the Sword of the Creator upward. Four of the beasts fell from the dragon, and two more were dislodged by her claws. She roared, another blast of fire glowing behind her teeth. It was enough, Eirian thought, and she started to turn, to check and see if the students had made it out.

There was a thrum of dread in the air, the familiar signature of dark magic. “Why did you follow?!” Rhea howled, her voice distorted by her transformation and her rage. That was when Eirian saw.

Solon and a group of hooded figures stood on the other side of the bridge, and he cackled with glee as a sphere of black energy roared toward her. There was no time to react. It hit her like a punch in the gut and a lightning strike, driving her backward. She was suspended in the air for what felt like an eternity, the gorge below her a dark plunge into nothingness.

She had broken her promise to Seteth, she thought, and now he would never forgive her. Divine magic pulsed to life in her chest before she could stop it. Suddenly he was there, hanging sideways from Ariadne and grabbing her wrist. “Don’t let go!” he called through gritted teeth.

But his hand was slick with blood, and the tighter she grasped, the more her fingers slipped. Something cold and hard caught between her thumb and forefinger as she scrambled to keep hold. It was no use. 

The last thing she saw before darkness took her was the look of shock and horror on his face as another bolt of dark magic struck his wyvern’s side and crushed him against the walls of Garreg Mach.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just now realized, as I replay the game, that I got early events somewhat out of order, so let's just pretend I did that on purpose, shall we? I was planning on adding battle aftermath to this chapter so the next one could start after the timeskip, but this was already so long, I decided to wait. Expect a week or more until the next update as I need to get some other writing done as well. As always, thanks for reading! Kudos and comments give me life.


	4. Rebirth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eirian wakes up to find that five years has passed. When she returns to Garreg Mach, much has changed and the Knights tell her that Seteth was killed in the battle. But she hardly has time to grieve when Flayn gives her some very different news. Sexytimes at the end of the chapter.

Eirian floated in a vast nothingness, a pool of dark that whooshed and throbbed to the sound of a heartbeat. It was so comfortable and soothing that she never wanted to leave, but something kept tickling at the edge of her consciousness. Something important she was forgetting.

“Haven’t you slept enough?” said an imperious and oddly familiar voice. “You’re keeping that Seteth waiting. I never understood why you were so fascinated. He’s kind of stiff and boring.”

“He’s not boring, he’s just cautious,” Eirian murmured sleepily.

“Well, either way, I doubt he’s going to wait forever,” Sothis said. “He reminds me of something... or someone. I wish I knew what.”

“Sothis?” Eirian jolted upright, finding herself alone on the rocky shore of a riverbank. Everything ached, and her left hand was clenched so tightly she could barely move her fingers to see what was inside. 

“Seteth’s ring,” she murmured, running her fingers over the pale green stone in the center of the wide silver band. “It must have fallen off when he...” Her mind replayed the last thing she’d seen, he and Ariadne smashed against the wall. She swallowed. She had to get back to Garreg Mach. The Sword of the Creator was lying beside her as if it had just fallen out of her hand.

It took her a few minutes of hobbling to find the road, but after a while, her joints had loosened enough to make her feel almost normal. A wagon pulled by a single ox trundled up the road at a weary pace. 

“Are you all right, miss?” said the man in the driver’s seat when he came into speaking range. She must look a fright.

“I’m fine,” she called back. “Could you tell me how far I am from Garreg Mach?”

“It’s just over the other side of that rise,” he replied, pointing to the northeast. “Don’t know why you’d want to go there, though. It’s naught but rubble and bandits since the Empress defeated the Knights of Seiros five years ago.”

“Five years,” she mouthed, her heart thudding. Had anyone survived? The thought of her students, of Seteth, all gone because she hadn’t been there to help made her mouth go dry. “I have to get there,” she said, more to herself than to anyone. “Thanks for the information.”

“If you’re that determined, I could give you a ride to the town gate,” he said.

About a half hour later, she stood in the center of what used to be a town, but was now only a tangle of weeds and charred shells of houses. The villager who’d left her here had told her about the civil war that had raged through Fódlan since the defeat of Garreg Mach; how Edelgard had basically conquered Faerghus, but the Leicester Alliance was mostly intact, how no one had seen Rhea since that fateful day. But until Eirian saw it for herself, it didn’t quite feel real.

Hopelessness threatened to swallow her, but she steeled herself and made her way up to road to the monastery. No one challenged her; nothing even moved, but a suspiciously fresh bandit corpse was laying next to the front gate. She unsheathed her sword, just in time. A shadow had detached itself from the entryway.

“Teach!” The shadow resolved into Claude. He’d grown a couple of inches since the last time she’d seen him, but his smile was the same. “I knew you weren’t dead, although I do have to wonder what you’ve been doing for the last five years.”

“Would you believe I’ve been asleep?” she said awkwardly. She didn’t even mind the hug; it was just a relief to know someone had survived.

“If it was anyone else, I’d say you lost your marbles, but you wouldn’t be you if weird stuff wasn’t constantly happening,” he said, gripping her shoulder companionably. “Are you hungry? I was kind of hoping the rest of our class would show up. It ought to be the Millennium Festival today.”

“They’re alive?” she said breathlessly. 

He nodded, grinning. “You taught us well. We got pretty much everyone out. The Leicester Alliance has fought a few skirmishes with Edelgard, but she’s been mostly occupied with Faerghus so far. Which is lucky, since we aren’t exactly unified.”

“Is it that bad?” She’d really left things a mess, hadn’t she? One person couldn’t save the world, but she knew if she’d been there...

“I mean, not worse than usual. I thought there’d be way more trouble when my grandfather died, to be honest. Most of the issues are due to outside pressure. Count Gloucester, for instance, has a truce with the Empire, for the moment. His lands are right on the other side of the Great Bridge; he has to think of his people. Mostly he’s thinking of his trade revenue, but what can you do?” 

Claude sighed and stretched his arms over his head. “Anyway, my thought is, we’ll eat, clear out those bandits, and hopefully a few of our friends will show up. Then, we can talk about what happens next.” 

Eirian found that she was starving, and the simple meal of cold chicken, hard cheese, and boiled eggs tasted about as delicious as anything she’d ever eaten. “So,” she said, washing down her last bite with cold water from the thankfully unpolluted well, “You were saying something about bandits?”

The bandits were holed up in the ruins of the side courtyard and the stables. There were a lot more of them than she was expecting. “Here’s my plan,” she said, beckoning Claude to look over the ruined wall. “You shoot that guy with the axe. With any luck, he and a couple of his friends will come up the stairs here where I’ll be waiting. If we can take them in small groups like that, we should be okay.”

The plan went well at first. But then the bandits brought out their own archers and mages. Eirian was wondering how much it would hurt to charge the main group when a shout came up from the other side of the stables. It was Leonie and Hilda!

Lorenz, Lysithea, and Ash showed up a few minutes later, followed by Rafael and Ignatz. By the time the bandits had all been dealt with, every member of the Golden Deer house, even Petra, Felix, and Sylvain, had appeared. 

They reunited in the entrance hall with much laughter and embraces. “I was beginning to think nobody would show up,” Claude said, “But you all remembered our promise.”

“And let you say I am not a man of my word? Perish the thought.” Lorenz had grown too, thankfully getting rid of those terrible bangs. All of the students were looking so adult; Eirian wondered if she too had changed.

“What about you, Professor? We thought you were dead,” Leonie said, a hint of accusation and pain behind her teasing tone.

“I...” She didn’t get a chance to answer because just then the front door opened with a rusty groan. Everyone grabbed their weapons, but astoundingly, it was the Knights of Seiros, led by Catherine.

“It is so good to see some friendly faces around here,” she said with a wide grin. “I thought we’d only find the bandits.”

“We took care of them for you,” Claude replied. “You guys have really let this place go.” He gestured to the pile of rubble blocking the door to the reception hall. It looked like part of the cathedral had collapsed as well.

“I know,” Catherine said, wincing. “Our forces are spread so thin just looking for Rhea and protecting as many of the churches as we can. But we ought to have come back ages ago. We did try and block off a few areas on purpose to discourage looting, but who knows if that worked.”

Eirian was only half-listening, looking at the Knights gathering in the doorway and not finding the face she most wished to see. Finally, she couldn’t hold it in any longer. “Is Seteth with you?” 

No one would meet her eyes. Her knees felt suddenly weak, and the room began to spin.

“Shit. She’s going to faint.”

*************

Eirian started at herself in the cracked mirror, running her fingers through her damp hair. It was a little longer, but otherwise, five years had made no difference in her appearance. 

Someone had cleared the blockage to the second floor so she could lie down on the sofa in Jeralt’s room, and Hilda had somehow managed to find a washtub. Now that she was clean, Eirian felt more human, but nothing could fill the gaping hole in her heart. She couldn’t believe he was dead. Because of her. If she hadn’t accidentally called to him...

She gripped the ring so tight that the metal bit into her fingers. It was strung on a leather cord around her neck now, a heavy reminder. Right now, everything felt pointless, but she knew she had to go on, if only for the others’ sake. For Fódlan. For vengeance.

There was a knock at the door. “Professor?” Eirian swallowed. It was Flayn. If anyone had a right to be upset it was her, so...

“Come in,” she replied in a choked voice.

Flayn rushed into the room, embracing her. “I’m so glad you’re all right. After the battle, we all feared the worst when you couldn’t be found.”

“I’m fine,” Eirian said, unconvincingly. “What about you, since...?” She couldn’t even say it.

Flayn’s expression was odd. She clasped her hands in front of her, almost apologetic. “I know you must have been shocked by what the Knights told you. You cared about him.”

“I did,” she choked out. “It was my fault. I...”

“No, Professor, please... You have his ring,” Flayn said suddenly, somewhat wistful.

“Yes. I... You should have it really,” Eirian said, starting to lift the cord over her head.

“No, no,” Flayn said, smiling. “I think... he would want you to have it. That was his wedding ring, you know,” she said, a hint of something like mischief in her eyes. “I’m glad it isn’t lost.”

Eirian blushed despite herself. But this conversation was getting really weird. “All right, but... what’s going on?”

Flayn took a deep breath and sighed it out. “My father... kept a lot of secrets. Mostly for my sake. It would be easier if I showed you, if you will trust me just a bit longer.”

Eirian couldn’t think of anyone less malicious than Flayn, so she agreed despite her growing confusion. “Where are we going?”

“The cathedral,” Flayn said, sighing with obvious relief. “Hopefully, we can get there without attracting too much attention.”

She didn’t speak again until they had made it out to the bridge, somehow without being seen. The sky was already dark. “How much do you know about the four Saints, Professor?”

Eirian frowned. “They were Seiros’s companions in the battle against Nemesis, right?”

“Yes,” Flayn said. “That is what the Church tells us. But it is only a small part of the truth. Seiros... wasn’t human.”

“You mean...” Eirian remembered the Immaculate One, the picture Claude had showed her. “She was like Rhea. She could turn into a dragon... or something.”

Flayn nodded. “It was more like... she was a dragon that chose to take a human shape. But yes. Seiros was from a race called the Nabatheans, the children of Sothis. When Sothis came to Fódlan, she had many children, and they all took human forms. They built a civilization in Zanado alongside the humans that already lived here.”

“So what happened to them?” Flayn had led her inside the cathedral now, which was dark and empty save for the ever present call of owls in the rafters. They went to the back, skirting a few pieces of broken wall, to the door Eirian had only seen open once before.

“There was a war. Nemesis and his army slaughtered everyone in the valley, and Seiros was the only survivor. But some of her siblings had left long before, and she gathered up whoever she could find. That is who the four Saints really are.”

“Seiros’s siblings... the remaining children of Sothis?” Eirian said slowly.

“Yes,” Flayn replied, smiling. “Well. To be more precise, her three brothers and her niece.”

Eirian let out a breath. “Okay... But what does this have to with anything?” Flayn had a tendency toward meandering conversations, but this was a little too ancient history to be an accident.

She put her hand on the door in front of them, and it lit up in recognition, sliding aside. “You have been here before. The Holy Mausoleum houses the tombs of the Saints. Supposedly,” she said, beckoning Eirian forward. All the torches were lit, which was a bit odd. Who’d been tending them? “But the truth is, Nabatheans are not really mortal.”

“Didn’t you say Nemesis killed them?” Eirian said, chewing her lip and shivering. The wavering torchlight made the shadows leap and dance on the walls.

“Their bodies can be destroyed, but even then, their hearts live on. A Crest Stone is the heart of a Nabathean,” Flayn said.

“That’s really creepy,” Eirian said, pressing her hand to her own chest almost instinctively. “If they don’t die, than why have graves?”

“That is partly to hide their true natures. After the tragedy of Zanado, Seiros wanted to erase all knowledge of her brethren. To protect them. That is the purpose of the Church... mostly,” Flayn amended. “I believe things got too big. Rhea grew drunk on her own power.”

“I can agree with that,” Eirian said, remembering the execution of Lord Lonato and the others of the Western Church. “But why are we here?”

“When Nabatheans are badly injured... or sometimes when they are simply tired, they go into a state of dormancy. As you experienced yourself,” Flayn said. “This is the tomb of St. Cichol.”

There was a metal disc engraved with Cichol’s Crest, and when she twisted it, the whole sarcophagus slid back, revealing a narrow staircase downward. Eirian followed Flayn down the stairs, realization hovering at the edge of her awareness. She was afraid for it to be true. She was even more afraid for it to be false.

“He was badly injured in the battle, but I could have healed him. Only... it was too much. Losing you, and Rhea, and Ariadne all at once. He just... shut down. I had to get Ignatz to help me,” Flayn said in a hushed voice.

Even having already guessed what she would see, it was still a shock. Seteth was lying on a stone platform with his hands crossed over his chest. He looked like he was being prepared for burial, clothed in a loose white shirt and pants, his hair splayed out behind him. 

She wanted to run to him, but forced herself to approach slowly. “He’s really... alive?”

Flayn nodded. “I thought you should know. But there is no way to tell how long he will sleep. I slept for 700 years after the battle with Nemesis. I rather hope it will not be that long, but there is little we can do. That is why I had to tell the other Knights he was dead. After all he has done to keep this secret, I could not betray it.”

It was better than dead, wasn’t it? But it was also almost worse. To have him here, so close, and not know if she would even live long enough to hear his voice. Eirian reached out, but hesitated. “Can I...?”

“He can’t really feel it, if you touch him,” Flayn said, her voice cracking a little. 

Of course, this was hard for her too. Even knowing she would see him again, it must have been the first time she had been really alone. “But we can... sense the presence of others, even in sleep. It might comfort him, knowing you are well. Take as much time as you would like. I’ll be just upstairs.”

Eirian nodded before turning back to Seteth. Maybe it should have changed her view of him, knowing that he was over a thousand years old, that he’d been hiding so much, from everyone. But her main thought was that she wished he would have been able to share that burden with her. So much about him, about everything, made sense now. She took his hand, her chest tight.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t here,” she said haltingly. His skin was warmer than she thought it would be. She supposed that made sense. Up close, she could see the shadow of stubble on his cheeks, like it had been a few days rather than years. His hair had grown a bit too, curling on the ends. 

“We have a lot to do now, to defeat Edelgard and stop this war, but I promise I’ll come back as often as I can. For as long as I can. I don’t know whether I’m quite as long-lived as you are.” She almost laughed, but it seemed wrong, here in the echoing silence.

There wasn’t much else to say. She might have told him that she loved him, but it felt cowardly, to say it when he couldn’t hear. And besides, she was never sure if she understood love. People said it all the time, but when you spent half of your life not feeling anything, maybe all emotions were so... consuming, so gut-wrenching. 

At a loss, she bent and pressed her lips to his forehead, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. She hated crying. It was messy, it made her head hurt; she sniffed it back quickly.

“Please wake up soon,” she said as she pulled away. He looked like he was frowning now, and she frowned back. Had he always been making that face? Then, unmistakably, his fingers twitched against hers. She gasped and started to call Flayn, but he opened his eyes. They caught and held her just as they always had, but more somehow. It took all of her restraint not to throw her arms around him.

“Eirian,” he said hoarsely. “You’re alive?” He was gripping her hand so tight now it almost hurt.

She nodded. “We both needed a little nap, I guess,” she said weakly. 

His eyes darted around, taking in his surroundings. “So,” he said after a moment, “You must know everything.”

“I don’t know about everything,” she said, helping him to sit up. “But I know that Seteth is definitely not your given name and that the Church is full of crap.”

He looked like he wanted to laugh but wasn’t sure if he was allowed. “I am sorry that I kept this from you for so long. I would not blame you if you... found it off-putting.”

“Seteth... am I allowed to call you Seteth still?” He nodded. “If you’re trying to ask me whether finding out you’re a thousand years old has made me want to kiss you less, the answer is no.”

“Oh.” His cheeks went pink, which was delightful. “Should I kiss you now?”

“You should,” she agreed. It had been worth waiting five years, she thought, to feel his arms around her, his lips brushing hers softly. It felt like she was falling again, only they were doing it together. He kissed her again, harder, pulling her so close she could feel his heart beating against her chest, and her hand seemed to be sliding into his hair of their own accord. 

“This is not quite what I expected to see.”

“Flayn!” Seteth’s eyes went wide, but it didn’t seem to bother his daughter. She flung her arms around his waist, never mind that Eirian was basically in his lap. After a stunned second or two, he laughed and kept his arms around them both.

“I am relieved you’re awake already,” Flayn said, her smile as wide as Eirian had ever seen it. “But I am afraid it will be impossible to hide this from everyone else, as I told them you were dead.”

“How long have I been asleep?” he asked. “What is happening now?”

“From what I’ve heard so far, we missed five years of civil war,” Eirian said.

Flayn nodded. “Between Rhea and the Imperial Army, the monastery is looking rather worse for the wear. I have heard that the royal family of Faerghus was murdered, and things are currently at a stalemate. Rhea is still missing.”

“We can only hope that she is also off sleeping somewhere,” Seteth said, but his expression was troubled.

“The other Knights are here, along with Claude and many of the students. I suspect we will be talking about plans a great deal in the coming days,” Flayn added. “But if you want to avoid a scene, I suggest we try to enter the monastery now, while everyone is asleep.”

******************

It felt like a dream. His first steps out of the mausoleum were unsteady, his joints achy and weak from long inactivity, so he rested his weight on Eirian’s shoulder as they walked across the bridge to the monastery. Flayn held his hand like she was a little girl again. The wind was cold, but it carried the scent of early spring. His heart felt full to bursting.

They almost made it to the second floor without incident. Flayn squeezed his hand in the hallway. “I expect you two are not ready to sleep again, but I have been up since dawn. I will see you in the morning.”

It wasn’t as hard to let her go as it might have been. He’d been holding her so close, out of fear, but she’d been on her own for five years. Taking care of him as much as he had for her. He ran a hand through his hair. “I suppose she really has grown up.”

Eirian laughed. “You’re just now noticing that?” He frowned, but she nudged him in the side. “Don’t get grumpy. Growing up doesn’t mean she stops needing her dad, but a little more independence isn’t going to hurt anyone.”

He sighed. “You’re right, of course. If anything, she has earned some space from me, but that does not make it any easier.”

“Come on,” she said, pulling him toward the stairs. “You can share what’s left of my dinner.”

He was starving, actually, and she probably knew that, having just awoken herself, so they went upstairs. His arm was still around her shoulder, but now it was an excuse for keeping her pressed to his side. They had just turned the corner when...

“Professor!” Hilda exclaimed, a book falling out of her arms. “Is that Seteth? What is it with today and supposedly dead people coming back to life? Not that I’m not glad, don’t get me wrong.”

“Uh-“ Eirian said, eyes wide.

Seteth suppressed a groan. “Hilda, I would appreciate it if you would give me some time before you announce my resurrection to all and sundry. If you can keep quiet for... twelve hours, I will owe you a favor, and I promise to explain everything tomorrow.”

Hilda smiled in an oddly knowing way. “Sure. Twelve hours, no problem. See you at breakfast.” She picked up her book and continued down the stairs, muttering to herself. “I wonder if there’s going to be breakfast. I bet I can get Leonie to do some fishing....”

“She is going to milk that favor for all that it’s worth,” Eirian said with a chuckle.

“If it buys us a moment of peace it will be worth it,” he replied without thinking, but he didn’t regret his choice of words. Not only did Eirian deserve a moment of peace as much as he did, he wasn’t ready to leave her yet. For five years, his dreams had been plagued by the memory of her falling. Surely he could allow himself a few hours of reassurance.

They went into Jeralt’s old room, which aside from the dust, was in remarkably good shape. Dinner turned out to be wrinkled apples, brown bread, hard cheese, and cold chicken. They sat together on a dusty divan and shared a wineskin full of red wine that hadn’t yet turned to vinegar, and it was somehow perfect. 

“So how is it being a saint?” Eirian asked, leaning against his shoulder and grinning up at him.

“I assure you it was not my idea,” he huffed. “Flayn was asleep after the battle, and I foolishly gave my sister free reign to use her Church of Seiros to protect us. I was rather put out when I returned to find statues of myself everywhere.”

“They don’t look much like you, if it makes you feel any better,” she said. “I might have been more interested in church.”

Seteth laughed and turned toward her more fully, settling his arms around her waist. He wasn’t sure whether it was the wine or just the relief that she was alive, but this felt easy... normal. “I’m rather glad you were less than interested in worshipping my likeness, terrible or not. That might have made things awkward. More awkward than I am naturally, I mean.”

She smiled up at him. “I think you’re doing pretty well today.”

“I thought I had lost you,” he said, the memory of the moment making him shudder. “I tried to be careful... to not rush into anything, and then, to watch you fall... Part of me worries that this is another dream. If I let you go, you might disappear.” 

“I’m not planning on going anywhere, but I definitely won’t complain if you decide to spend a lot of time holding on to me.” She yawned and rested her head against his chest. “I might fall asleep though. You’d think I’d be well-rested after five years.”

He kissed her hair. There were other things they should talk about, the war and the future, plans and decisions, but it could wait until morning. “You can sleep. I will be here.”

**************

It had been such a strange dream, Eirian thought, still on the edge of sleep. Seteth was dead, but then he wasn’t because he was immortal, and he kissed her like she’d always hoped he would. She sighed at the peculiarities of her own mind and opened her eyes. 

Her face was pressed against warm, white fabric, which would have been less unusual if not for the slow, steady heartbeat against her ear. Seteth’s hands rested light and warm in her back. It hadn’t been a dream after all. 

She looked up carefully, not wanting to wake him. His head was tipped back, resting on the arm of the divan, the early morning light suffusing his skin with a soft glow. He smelled so good, even with the lingering hint of dust from the mausoleum. She wanted... so many things, some of which she barely understood. 

Her father had insured she received an education on what went on in the tents at night, mostly for her protection, and she wasn’t a complete novice. But before Sothis had awoken, it had mainly been a form of exercise, a scratch to a rare and purely physical itch. Now, everything was different. Even simple touching from Seteth awakened strange new emotions. Her desire was intensely centered on her need for him. Probably something they should talk about before she started divesting him of his clothes.

She kissed his cheek instead, and his eyelids fluttered. “Eirian,” he murmured, his arms tightening around her back. “It wasn’t a dream, after all.”

“I thought the same thing. That probably means we’re okay,” she said, settling back against him. He stroked her hair, his expression wondering.

“Judging by the light, I suspect we have about four hours before Hilda announces my presence to everyone in the monastery. Although I realize we have a great deal work of to do, I am not in such a hurry to get back to it. How shall we pass the time?” 

There was a new light in his eyes that sent warmth pooling in her belly. She smiled. “First off, I’d like to kiss you again. Probably several more times. I’m sure we could think of some other things to do after that.” 

This kiss was different than the first, deeper, softer, searching. His hands moved under her jacket, sliding over her hips, and she reached up to trace his cheekbone with her thumb.

“I am not at all opposed to this plan,” Seteth said in a low voice. “But we should be careful.” 

Eirian raised an eyebrow. She wasn’t entirely sure what he was referring to. “I do not think we want to bring a child into the middle of a war,” he said.

“Oh, of course,” she said. “I’ll have to start drinking that tea Manuela’s is always telling me about.” She kept bringing it up, supposedly for the benefit of students who might be sexually active, but Eirian was pretty sure Manuela was just hoping to hear about her love life.

He nodded. “There are measures I can take as well. Though, I confess,” he said interrupting himself to kiss her again. “I am perhaps less interested in caution today.”

She laughed. It was good to know that he was just as eager for this as she was. She pulled his shirt over his head, letting her hands glide over his chest and abdomen. He was more solid than he looked at first glance, though she could tell he’d lost weight in his sleep. She had too.

He slipped her coat from her shoulders, letting it fall to the floor, but she hardly noticed because of the way he’d drawn her lower lip gently between his teeth. She gasped, her nails dragging lightly over his shoulders, and he made a humming noise into her mouth.

He paused, his fingers hovering over the ring suspended on the cord. “I thought it was lost,” he murmured.

”It was in my hand when I woke up,” she said. “You can have it back.”

He only hesitated a moment before shaking his head. “No, I think perhaps it belongs with you,” he said, and kissed her again.

Her shirt was on the floor -when had that happened- and she could barely think about anything but the sensation of his hands on her skin, his fingers skimming over her ribs and upward to caress her breasts. 

Her head fell back and he kissed her throat, pressing her backwards until it was her lying back against the cushions. Just the feeling of his weight pressing into her made her blood heat. “Is there any way you would prefer me to touch you?” he asked, his lips nearly brushing her ear lobe.

“No... I don’t know. You’re doing pretty well so far,” she said breathlessly.

He paused. “Have you not done this before?”

The hint of alarm in his eyes made her giggle. “I have, I promise, but it was different, before Sothis awoke. I was different; I don’t really know how to explain it.”

The tension left his shoulders. “I suppose I will have to experiment,” he said, his eyes gleaming. 

Eirian had never before realized the things that could be done with one’s mouth. The attention he lavished on her breasts alone made her shudder and quake as desire shot like lightning between her legs.

But then he moved lower, taking her pants off almost before she knew what he was about, kissing her belly, gliding his fingers over her thighs. He lowered his face between her legs. 

It was like nothing she’d ever felt before. She slapped her hand over her mouth to stifle her moans because the waves of pleasure coursing through her would not allow her to be silent. And it was building toward something, a cyclone of ecstasy tightening just behind her navel. His tongue moved so slowly she thought she might lose her mind, but then, it broke, rushing over her from the inside out. It was like a explosion of her senses, every muscle shaking, and she only came back to herself when Seteth kissed her again on the mouth.

He tasted like the fruit that grew in the southern jungles, like her, she realized. “I think that was a satisfactory experiment,” he said, looking rather pleased with himself. 

“I had no idea,” she said, too limp and happy to even pretend not to be impressed. “But I feel like you didn’t get much out of it.”

“I enjoyed myself immensely,” he said. “But we do still have at least three hours.”

“And you still have your pants on,” she said. 

He was happy to let her help him out of them before pulling her into his lap. His skin felt so good against hers that she thought she could luxuriate in it for hours, but his cock was pressed against her stomach, and she wanted to feel that too. She traced her fingers lightly down the length of it and felt him shudder in response.

“Eirian, please,” he said, a broken whisper she couldn’t bear to deny. 

She rose on her knees and he arched up into her. This time she was the one shuddering. He seemed to fill every inch of her, and the first time he moved sent sparks right to her toes. 

Rhythm escaped them at first as they stuttered and gasped at the excess of sensation, but when they found it... it was like discovering a new kind of magic, existing only between them. A language of breath and touch and movement that built into a shattering crescendo. In the end, she wasn’t sure whether he kissed her to muffle her cries or his own. 

And then they held each other, sweat-sheened and shaking, for a time that seemed both short and pleasantly infinite. She rested her head on his shoulder, feeling his heartbeat slow, and it was a kind of peace she hadn’t even realized she needed.

“Have I ever told you how wonderful you are?” he said finally, pressing his lips to her forehead. 

“You say that now,” she said teasingly.

“No, I always believed you were amazing. It was only that before, I also found it extremely suspicious.”

She laughed. “Maybe when you’re trying to pretend not to be a thousand years old, you tend to suspect everyone else of duplicity.”

“Perhaps,” he admitted. “And it was really Rhea’s behavior that I found troubling. I still have things I would like to ask her, if she still lives.” He sighed. “What do you think are the chances I can have a bath without anyone noticing?”

“Very low,” Eirian replied with a chuckle. “Unless you want what remains of my bath from yesterday, but it’s probably freezing. But if you have clean clothes stored in your office, there’s a decent chance we could sneak over there.”

“I can only hope the mice didn’t get to them,” he said, reaching down to pick up some of their discarded clothing.

She smiled and kissed his cheek before starting the search for her shirt. “The perils of a five year nap, I guess.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was actually not at all the chapter I planned to write. It was going to follow canon, and Seteth was going to spend a lot of time grieving, but once I had this idea it would not let go, so I hope you like it. Thanks for reading,
> 
> I realized I forgot a part a meant to put in. Fixed now.

**Author's Note:**

> Yes I know about all those unfinished WIPs. But seriously, I just finished Fire Emblem last week, my first game in the series and it broke some serious writers block I was having. You can find out more about my other work and my novel WIP on Twitter @KitLlwynog


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